


Ours Is My Favorite

by Snarky_Muffins



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alien Biology, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blow Jobs, Bottom Kirk, Bottom Spock, But He Can Also Be A Good Grandfather, Ear Kink, Established Relationship, Feeding Kink, Fighting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Health problems, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Light Bondage, M/M, Marriage, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Pregnant Sex, Pregnant Spock, Sarek Can Be A Dick, Smut, Supportive Crew, Top Kirk, Top Spock, Uncle/Godfather McCoy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vulcan Biology, protective crew, spirk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-11 10:08:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2063976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snarky_Muffins/pseuds/Snarky_Muffins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How does one prepare, exactly, to be a father? Or, to be more precise, how does one prepare to be a father to a three quarters human and one quarter Vulcan child with a mate you thought to be sterile for exactly the entire duration of your relationship? Honestly, there aren't enough parenting handbooks in existence to prepare you, especially if you happen to James Tiberius Kirk, Captain of the glorious flagship <i>Enterprise</i> and the mate to the most logically illogical being in the entire universe and about to be the father of said mate's child. In approximately nine months time.</p><p>(Fluffy, angsty, smutty Jim and Spock MPreg, basically. Check the tags for the specifics)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: My first (published) attempted at an MPreg story that I love so much. In this one, Spock will be pregnant because...well 50% because of logical reasons (he's a Vulcan, so males getting pregnant can be easily explained) and 50% because I feel like there could be more plot twists. And not to give anything away, but the baby would be 75% human, while Spock is only 50% human, so that in itself could present a boatload of problems that are awfully (yet strangely deliciously) angsty that ensures a good dose of Protective!Crew and Protective!Kirk. Which is just my favorite. This story will follow the course of Spock's pregnancy until birth, and then it'll be over. Unless you guys want me to write a sequel about their family life, which I'll probably be more than happy to do. I also had no idea how long this story will turn out being. Please note that this is my first published attempt at graphic smut too, so the flow might be off, it might be awkward or choppy, just let me know if I could make it better in the comments! Please keep in mind this story is partially edited, but only by me and when I edit, I skim, so **expect a few errors occasionally**. If you see an error, please let me know!  
>  Warnings: M/M Sex, Miscarriage, Health Problems, Probably Lots of Crying, Sarek, Discrimination.

The day James T. Kirk got bonded to Spock was the best day of his entire life. It trumped the first time he had sex, the day he was _finally_ able to drink legally, the day he met Christopher Pike, the day he got the Enterprise, and both times he saved the world. Getting bonded to Spock, both the human and Vulcan way, was a kind of exhilarating, the kind of endlessness he'd never felt before. Every nerve in his body glowed, even though no one was touching him, every brain cell flared liked a super nova, and despite himself, a smile bright enough to put the sun to shame split open his face.

And then he could feel Spock inside him, at every moment, like a stir or a draft. He could feel the thrum of Spock's pulse mixing with his own until his mind was no longer _his_ , just as Spock's mind was no longer his. It was _their_ mind now. As scary as that sounded, Jim didn't think there was anything better in the entire world than to seemingly share a conscious with Spock. Nothing.

However, Jim missed the privacy of his bachelor years, but he had twenty-five of those. It was time to have twenty-five years of sharing (and God help him, a hell of a lot more than twenty-five years).

But there was nothing better than Spock. Every part of Spock was his now, and that made Jim burn with delight and tingle all over. Spock, in all his logic and pride was _his_.

There was a change on the Enterprise as every crew member breathed a collective sigh of relief. The sexual tension between Captain and First Officer had finally, for the first time in three years, dissipated completely. The general relief of the crew wasn't all that changed though. Spock and Jim started to share Jim's quarters, because they were bigger than Spock's. Spock had left his room as it was, simply saying it would remain as his meditation room. Spock and Jim never went to Sickbay by themselves anymore. One mate always accompanied the other, whether it be a routine physical or a bed rest order. 

They were the definition of each other's better half, especially Spock to Jim. The captain became a little less reckless for Spock's sake, he wasn't so quick to brush off his First's advice or warnings, and Jim, for the first time in what seemed like forever, was undeniably, perfectly, completely _happy_. Because of this wonderful package of pointed ears and black bangs in his life. 

Sometimes, it felt surreal that they'd be together forever. 'Till death do us part' was truer than ever with bonded pairs. Jim would never be rid of Spock, if he had anything to say about it, and he'd be damned it Spock went without him. It was them against the universe, in more ways than one, and Jim didn't think he'd want it any other way. 

Still, being bonded was never something Jim could predict. It was such a change to his life, because he didn't do love. 

Jim Kirk never understood the ways of the human heart. He never understood why his mother cried herself to sleep at night, clutching his father's picture to her chest. He never understood why Sam ran away, and why every nerve burned in his body the day Christopher Pike died. He never understood the hole that was carved into him when Pike died. Never. But now that he started to get things right for once; being Captain, protecting his crew, and above all else _Spock_ , for once he thought he had a chance at glimpsing the mysteries of the human heart. And maybe if he was lucky, the Vulcan one too.


	2. We Can't Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Spock don't shy away from intimacy. The landing party discovers something distressing on a planet's surface. Leonard wishes he was blind, deaf, and dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I've been meaning to write and Kirk/Spock MPreg story for a long time now and finally got around to it. I'm always a huge fan of pregnant Spock (partially because there's simply not enough out there, partially because I love the idea of a hovering Jim that Spock dismisses as illogical but secretly loves, and partially because I can tweak Vulcan anatomy and make a pregnant male have a logical explanation). I hope you enjoy and this will be a multi-chapter fic. (Please note that this is my first published attempt at writing graphic smut, so the flow might be weird, or it might be awkward or choppy. I apologize in advance! You may see errors as well, and if you do, let me know)  
> Warnings: **In This Chapter** Smut (right in the beginning), Swearing **Throughout The Story** Smut, Swearing, Attempted Rape, Miscarriage, Kidnapping, Torture, Light BDSM, Violence, Graphic Descriptions of Injuries, Angst, and Fluff...So yeah, so trigger warnings there.

Teeth clashed violently against each other. Two dominant mouths worked against each other; biting and sucking at lips and tongues. Jim's hands were tightly wrapped in the shoulders of Spock's shirt, keeping the Vulcan pinned against the wall. Spock had his hands gripping the sides of Jim's face, keeping his mouth to his as they kissed passionately. 

They had just gotten off shift and back to their quarters when Jim attacked Spock's mouth, just like he did everyday. It was too much seeing Spock by his science counsel, bending over the scanner, lips worked out complex sentences. Ever since they got bonded two months ago, Jim hadn't been able to hear a word Spock said. All his focus just narrowed on those perfectly sculpted lips, forming to makes words.

A soft growl from Spock drew Jim back to the present. Tearing his mouth away, the blonde licked a stripe from the Vulcan's jaw to earlobe. Jim gently sucked the lobe into his mouth, lathering it with his tongue and nipping gently at the tender skin.Spock's hands fell from his face to his shoulders, nails digging through the fabric to prick at Jim's skin. Spock pushed on Jim's shoulder's roughly, so the blonde's mouth fell away from his ear and he stumbled back towards the bed. As Spock followed him down onto the mattress, Jim ripped his gold command shirt over his head, tossing it to the side and grinning at Spock as he spread out on his back on the bed. 

Spock crawled up on him, still fully clothed, down to his boots. He worked his hands under the tight black undershirt Jim had on, fingers digging into the human's tight ab muscles and warm skin. Jim trembled as Spock's cooler than average skin stroked over his stomach, bunching the shirt up under his arms. Jim lifted his back so Spock could discard the article of clothing. Surprisingly, the Vulcan just threw it aside rather than stop and fold it. 

"Spock," Jim whined as Spock bent down, breath ghosting teasingly over his perk nipple. Spock's thigh was firmly wedged between's Jim's splayed legs, putting delightful pressure against Jim's swelling cock. Spock was straddling one of Jim's legs, letting his own erection press into Jim's hipbone as he darted his tongue out to swipe across his mate's nub. 

Jim grabbed at Spock's upper arms, squeezing his biceps through his science shirt. His breath came out in little pants as Spock swirled his tongue around his nipple before worrying it with his teeth. Involuntarily, Jim arched up into Spock's mouth, back coming off of the bed and his hard cock digging into Spock's thigh. His nerves tingled with pleasure as Spock moved from Jim's nipple to his navel, nipping and sucking down the plane of his stomach. Spock's tongue dipped into Jim's belly button before moving lower, licking along Jim's waistline. 

"Oh god," Jim breathed as his fingers tangled into Spock's silky black hair. He tugged on it gently with one hand as his other moved down to caress and roll the pointed tip of Spock's ear between his fingers. 

"T'hy'la," Spock said against his skin, and for the first time since they got back in their room, his dark eyes rolled to look at his mate's face. His hair was ruffled, his brown eyes big against his milky white face, and lips plump and swollen from kissing. A faint green blush decorated his cheeks and neck. Jim didn't think Spock was capable of looking more gorgeous than right now. 

Jim stared down at Spock's head as he Vulcan glanced down again. Spock's deft fingers worked open the button and fly of Jim's regulation pants, painfully slowly.Jim raised his hips to help Spock shimmy the loosened garment down his legs. As Spock was fumbling with the zipper of Jim's boots, the blonde seized the opportunity to flip them over, pulling Spock back up to smash their lips together. 

"My turn," Jim growled playfully as he smirked, wrapping his fingers through Spock's hair and leaning over him to toy with tip of Spock's ear. Jim wasn't ashamed to admit his fascination with Spock's ears, and that his mouth always gravitated to them. Spock never complained either. He just let Jim suck away until the tip was a bright green, and wet with saliva. 

Jim nibbled down the shell of Spock's ear, one hand roaming to brush down the sides of Spock's neck, one of his sensitive areas. The Vulcan cooed quietly, arching up to Jim's hand and rigid member pressing urgently against Jim's thigh, which now parted his legs. Jim drew back and went immediately to Spock's pants, not bothering with his tunic. Jim pulled them off over his boots, and tossed them to the side. 

"I love your boots," Jim purred as he took in the sight of his pantless partner, wearing just his boots and science blues. 

"Jim," Spock murmured as the human in question began to brush his fingertips along the wiry muscle of Spock's calves. Jim didn't look up. He smirked and massaged upwards towards Spock's clothed groin, his thumbs rotating in little circles. Spock breathed out through his nose, more like a sigh, and that was a rare thing to draw from the emotionless Vulcan. Spock wasn't really into dirty talk, or role playing that much. He liked it either fast and dirty (like in the turbolift) or slow and sensual. Jim wasn't about to complain. Spock was perfect, end of story. 

Jim flattened his hand against Spock's cock, and the Vulcan twitched and let out a gasp so quiet Jim wasn't sure he heard it. At the sight of Spock's dick bulging against his boxers, Jim's own interested organ twitched. 

"Jim, do not tease," Spock reprimanded, his voice low and thick with lust. Jim turned his baby blues up to Spock before smiling innocently.

"Me? Never," He tugged Spock's boxers down around his knees, watching in fascination as the Vulcan's double-ridged cock sprang up. Spock's member was long, compared to a human's, but thinner and glowing a delicious, kiwi green. Thick, coarse black hairs covered the base, and the trail disappeared under the hem of his shirt. Usually Jim would be interested in following it, but the heady scent of Spock's freed arousal proved too tempting. 

Jim nudged Spock's legs further apart and nuzzled against his lower stomach feeling Spock's hardness against his pectorals. Spock purposefully twisted his hips up to rub his erection against Jim and made a small noise in the back of his throat. Jim kissed Spock's hip bone underneath taut skin before dipping his head down between Spock's legs and swirling his tongue around the tip of Spock's cock, cleaning it of the pre-come beading there. Spock bucked his hips up, encouraging his mate to continue. Jim tickling the tops of Spock's thighs and huffed a bit of laughter. He applied pressure to Spock's hips to keep him against the bed as he sucked up to the first ridge into his mouth.

Jim loved how Spock tasted. Not just his dick, but all over. He tasted of herbal tea and incense, and if Vulcan had a taste, he'd taste like that too. Spock smelled like the Earth, whole and natural and _wonderful_. He knew his Vulcan mate must taste and smell so much better and exotic than Jim himself, but Spock never seemed to complain. Especially not when he was licking all the salt off of Jim's body.

Jim swiped his tongue beneath the first ridge, then swallowed, his palate pulling at Spock's pulsing organ. The Vulcan's fingers were twisted in the sheets, light strings of sweat dotted his forehead and neck and chest. As Jim sucked, he felt his head grow dizzy from all the blood pooling into his abdomen, the incredible tightness in his boxers. 

He bobbed his head up and down, going until Spock's cock bumped against the back of his throat. His fuel was the desperate little pants Spock kept making, and the sound of the Vulcan puffing out his name. Jim's eyes were starting to water from the lack of oxygen when he buried Spock so deeply into his mouth that the black hairs tickled his nose. He swallowed as best as he could and Spock came with a long moan, the only moan he would ever release during sex was when he was climaxing. 

Jim swallowed all of Spock's essence (it was more watery than human cum, but tasted better, Jim thought) and pulled off slowly, letting Spock's now limp cock fall from his lips. Jim, with swollen, slick, red lips smiled at Spock and his disheveled hair and lust-blown pupils. He had nearly forgot about his own erection until it twitched again at the sight of Spock's face. 

Jim could have kissed Spock when he reached down and pulled Jim up next to him, hands soothingly rubbed Jim's shoulders and moving downwards to removed the blonde's boxers. Jim held up his weight on his forearms as he kissed the corner of Spock's mouth. The Vulcan reached down between them and wrapped his strong, long-fingered hand around Jim's cock and stroked it, thumb moving over the tip and slit, pointer finger gently scratching underneath the ridge. It didn't take long for Jim to come, his shout muffled against Spock's shoulder.

"I love you," Jim mumbled as Spock withdrew his hand and sucked Jim's cum off of his fingers. The human didn't hesitate to kiss his Vulcan when he was done. Spock grasped Jim's hand and twined their fingers together. They laid in the silence of the room, and Spock waited until Jim's breathing had almost evened out completely before whispering 'And I you, ashayam.'  
~

"Readings, Mr. Spock?" Jim asked as he stared at the small orange tinted planet rotating the corner of the view screen. It was 0800 hours, and his shift just started with his favorite bridge crew; Uhura, Chekov, Sulu, and of course, Spock. Orders from Starfleet had been patched in at 0600 hours, and the previous shift warped them to the planet, _Delta 3_ , for a routine scientific evaluation. 

"Class M planet with an atmosphere nearly identical to Earth. Gravitational pull is slightly less so," Spock reported, looking up from the scanner to see the back of Jim's head. 

"What, again, were our orders, Uhura?" Jim asked as he glanced briefly over at the communications station. Uhura adjusted her ear piece and replayed the message from Starfleet. 

"Our orders are to check up on the scientific colony, led by Gram Briar," Uhura said. 

"That's all? Nothing else...like make sure an evil Nazi leader hasn't taken over or slavery is back or something?" 

Uhura rolled her eyes so violently Jim thought they might fall out of her head. "No, Sir. It's just a routine evaluation."

"I've heard that before," The blonde smiled harmlessly at the woman, but she just rolled her eyes again. He punched his comm. "Doctor McCoy, meet me in the transporter room in ten minutes. It's your lucky day," -he cut the communication line before Leonard could respond- "Sulu, you have the con. Mr. Spock, with me." Jim bounced out of his chair and Spock obediently followed him to the turbolift. 

As soon as the doors swished shut, Jim grabbed Spock's face and smashed their lips together. Spock grunted something, and let Jim kiss him, before gently shoving him off. 

"Jim, it would not be wise to engage in copulation at this time," Spock said stiffly as he smoothed down the front of his shirt. Jim shrugged.

"You know what they say; a man always thinks clearer with empty balls," 

"Captain, I do not believe I have ever heard that statement before," Spock did one of his tiny, barely noticeable Vulcan frowns. Jim opened his mouth to elaborate, but didn't have time before the turbolift doors opened into the corridor across from the transporter room. Scotty was inside the transporter room, sitting behind the panel. Leonard was already on his platform, scowling as usual and gripping his med bag. He passed Spock a tri-corder as the Vulcan stepped up beside him. 

"For being a logical, on-top-of-it Vulcan, you seem to forget your tri-corder a lot," Leonard mused dryly, glowering at Spock. Jim rolled his eyes. Their feud was endless and quite frankly, pointless.

"Doctor, I did not _forget_ my tri-corder. Not only was I unaware I would be needing one, but you also always supply me with one upon entry into the transporter room. It was only logical to assume you would equip me with one this time. The circumstances-" Leonard raised his hand to stop Spock before it was too late.

"No, no Spock. It's okay," The doctor practically crossed his eyes at this. "But you know what they say about assuming."

"I do not,"

"To assume makes an ass out of you and me," Jim supplied helpfully, and a little impatiently as he bounced on the balls of his feet. As much as he loved both of them, their mindless banter grew tiring really fast.

"I believe the correct English grammar usage would be 'me and you', Captain," Spock corrected. Jim seethed and waved him off. 

"Scotty, can we go now?"

"Certainly, Sir! I just find their arguing entertaining," The engineer grinned and his hands flew across the board, pressing buttons and moving sliders until the air seemed to buzz as Kirk's, Spock's, and McCoy's atoms separated and they were gone.  
_

"I seriously loath that monstrosity, Jim!" Leonard cursed as soon as the hazy outlines of his friends solidified. Jim smiled and laughed, clapping Leonard on the back. 

"I thought after all this time you would've gotten used to it," Jim said as he casually allowed his arm to relax around Leonard's neck. Spock was already playing with his tri-corder, walking up to tall plants of yellow and orange and scanning them. The planet was dry and empty as far as Jim could see. The sky was a thin, paper blue devoid of any clouds or evidence of pollution. The ground was all chalky red sand, littered with large, milky white boulders and rocks. In the distance there were jagged mountain peeks and dangerous looking cliffs with rough faces. Hills of orange and yellow plants and red sand rolled in the distance. The air was hot too, crackling and causing Jim to see heat waves. Spock, naturally, seemed at home in the desert like environment, and perfectly comfortable in his black trousers and long-sleeved science tunic. 

"You couldn't have sent Christine down?" Leonard whined as Jim removed his arm from around his neck and yanked on the tight collar to his tunic. The long sleeved command shirt was bad enough, but the damn black regulation undershirt was tight and practically drew the huge sun of this quadrant to him. Leonard seemed slightly cooler, thanks to his short sleeved medical blues. 

"She's not you, Bones, and you make such good company and small-talk," Jim smirked even as he could taste sweat rolling into his mouth. "God, it must be one hundred degrees!"

"One-oh-four degrees to be exact, Captain," Spock said as he rejoined the small party and started walking towards the hazy science outpost. 

"Lord Jesus have mercy," Jim panted as he rolled up his sleeves. He knew he must look unprofessional, but he really didn't care. Spock insisted on keeping their cabins at about ninety degrees, and most of the time Jim walked around buck ass naked. The Starfleet officers here (and Leonard) should consider themselves lucky (or unlucky depending on the way you looked at it).

"I don't think Jesus makes it to this region of the galaxy," Leonard sneered and Jim glared. Spock just ignored them. He always thought religion was quasi-fascinating, but easily the most illogical thing he knew of. It was simply ignoramus to believe in something that no one had any _hard, solid_ proof existed. Not to mention that religion was the cause of most wars and bloodshed through the galaxy. 

The trio walked (or in Jim's case, tripped) up to the large, double glass doors of the science outpost. One of the doors was hanging wide open on one hinge. Wafts of cool air splashed out on the landing party. Jim and Leonard shared a curious stare as Spock pushed between them and into the room. His tri-corder whorled as it attempted to read the environment. It was only a moment before the tri-corder started to beep furiously and Spock backed out of the outpost. He shut the door as best as he could and turned to meet the confused eyes of his friends.

"Captain, Doctor, I suggest we relocate immediately," Without explaining further, the Vulcan took off. Jim jogged behind him and Leonard hurried as best as he could in the thick, heavy sand. 

"What the hell is this all about, Spock?" Leonard demanded as soon as Spock stopped by a cactus looking plant. 

"My tri-corder was picking up high levels of gamma radiation. It we had remained in the vicinity 3.43 minutes longer, we would all have severe radiation poisoning," Spock explained. Jim crossed his arms. 

"Wait, wait. Gamma radiation? One of the only places that has naturally occurring gamma radiation is Earth, and safety measures would have been put in place if this planet had an abundance of it in the area. Starfleet doesn't set up outposts of any kind until they're sure the area is completely safe. Are you sure, Mr. Spock?" Jim didn't doubt Spock's competency, but one could ever be too careful. And after the Khan ordeal, Jim found himself to be much more wary of radiation. 

"Positive, Captain. Theoretically, Delta 3 has an atmosphere that could support gamma radiation, but thorough sweeps of the planet's inner and outer layers reveal nothing of the sort. Delta 3 was listed under planets with no radiation at all. The likelihood of gamma radiation spontaneously appearing on this planet is less than .01%," Spock confirmed.

"Do you know if the science outpost was working with radiation? Maybe there was a leak...?" 

"Negative, Captain. The scientist were geologists and botanists, put on this planet to study the geography and plant life for possible cures of diseases and whether or not it would be possible to start a colony,"

"Could they synthesize gamma radiation?" Leonard asked. 

"It seems unlikely, Doctor, given that there would be no logic behind any radiation use. These scientist are not radiologists. None of their files say that they have the prerequisite knowledge needed in order to artificially make gamma radiation, nor did they have the necessary equipment,"

"When did you read their files?" Jim asked. He didn't recall ever hearing about public profiles for the scientists here.

"When the orders first came through I gathered as much information as I could about the outpost and the scientists and their objective," Spock explained patiently. 

"What about the scientists? They're probably still in there...they're probably really sick," Jim said, starting back towards the outpost. 

"Jim, wait! I'm a doctor, so of course I want to help those people, but we don't have any protection or the right medical tools to help them even if we could do so without exposure," Leonard said, grabbing at his friend's arm. Jim looked back at him and sighed in defeat. If wouldn't do them any good to get radiation poisoning. Then they'd never be able to help the scientists. 

"I know, Bones," Jim said, unhooking his communicator from his belt and hailing the ship. "Captain Kirk here, three to beam aboard."

"Aye, Captain, justa give me a wee moment here," Scotty said, his voice breaking through the transmission. Kirk stared curiously at the communicator and tapped the reception panel. 

"Scotty? Can you here me?" 

"You're breaking up, Captain. There-" The sound of the engineer's voice crackled and fizzled out. Jim furrowed his brow and tapped at his communicator again. Not even the faint hum of static came through. Sighing, Jim flipped it closed and hooked it onto his belt. 

"This is just fantastic," The blonde muttered angrily. Leonard was staring the the direction of the outpost with a forlorn look in his eyes. Spock was staring at Jim, but somehow it wasn't creepy. 

"Jim, we can't help those people," Leonard said suddenly, drawing his eyes back to his captain. "God knows how long they've been exposed. God knows if they're even still alive."

"Doctor, you seem to forget that we may have traces of radiation poisoning in our systems as well," Spock pointed out. Jim groaned internally and Leonard scowled at him. 

"Fan-fucking-tastic, Mr. Spock! I don't happen to have any way to cure us, either, so isn't it _better_ just to be left in suspense?" 

"Are you implying, Doctor, that you are not willing to scan our persons for radiation poisoning?" 

"Yes, I am _implying_ that, you green blooded hobgoblin! See, sometimes us _illogical_ humans prefer not to know something so we can hope for the better scenario," Leonard huffed, fixing his medical scanner strap on his shoulder. 

"Enough, enough. We're in enough shit as it is without you two fighting," Jim said. Sometimes he really hated acting as the intermediary between his best friend and his lover. 

"Just take his side, Captain. We all know you want to," Leonard bit out. Spock opened his mouth to say something, but was silenced with a wave from Jim.

"Bones, what is that even supposed to mean?"

Leonard rolled his eyes. "It means, Jim, that ever since you and Spock started making moon eyes at each other, you've been whipped bloody. No one can even argue with the Vulcan without you busting a fuse!" Jim frowned.

"I have not. I can separate my personal life from my professional life pretty damn well,"

"So you say. It's harder to actually do it," Leonard snapped. 

"Enough, Doctor. We're here on a mission, not to argue about whether I do or don't show favoritism to Spock. This isn't a kindergarden classroom, Leonard. I'm allowed to have favorites,"

"Everyone has favorites, Jim. You're just not supposed to _show_ that you have favorites," The two humans fell silent after that, awkwardly standing around in the beam down location, waiting for Scotty to call back. After about twenty minutes of burdened silence, Jim spoke again.

"We can't just stand here," He sighed. The noise seemed shattering in the quiet. 

"What else can we do, Jim? This place is absolutely _empty_ and the only spot of civilization is filled with radiation," Upon saying this, Leonard lowered himself to the ground, mindful of the prickly cactus tree behind him and breathed out heavily. Teardrop sized beads of sweat rolled off of his forehead and nose. Jim was sweltering in the heat, his shirt already soaked through, the back of his neck clammy, and his hair stuck to his forehead. Sweat was even rolling into his eyes ad stinging them. His feet ached from struggling to remain balanced in the lumpy sand, the sun was so big and bright in the sky it practically seared into his eyes, and his pants were sticking extremely uncomfortably to his tights and buttocks. Sighing, Jim sat down next to Leonard, the little shade from the cactus tree just shadowing half of his face. Fortunately, the sand wasn't very hot. 

Spock, meanwhile, unclipped his communicator and adjusted the frequency, hearing nothing but static and silence. He closed it and hooked it on his belt. "Still no signal, Captain," He reported.

"Yeah, I could tell," Jim replied as he flopped backwards so he was laying spread eagle on the ground. His sore eyelids closed over his eyes, and within minutes he was asleep. 

~

"Jim," A murky voice broke through Jim's subconscious mind." _Jim_!" The sound was more urgent now. Groggily, the human dragged himself out of his fitful sleep, blinking open his eyes warily. Fortunately, the sun had sunk in the distance and twilight was upon them. And the unbearable heat had subsided. Unfortunately, however, Jim knew how cold deserts got at night, and already he knew it was going to be frigid. The sand under him had hardened already from the lack of heat. 

"Finally. Spock says we have to find shelter somewhere for the night," Leonard said as he helped Jim to his feet. Jim rubbed at his eyes and nodded.

"Still no luck with the ship?" 

"Spock got a signal, but Scotty said there was too much interference for them to risking beaming us up. Turns out they made the right choice. They tried to beam us down food, blankets, and water, but it never materialized," Leonard explained. Jim smacked his dry lips and screwed up his face. Man, he hadn't realized how thirsty and hungry he was until now. 

"Speaking of the devil," Jim glanced around in the growing dark, but didn't see the tall, wiry figure of his T'hy'la anywhere. "Bones, where the hell is Spock?" Leonard waved him off.

"He's off looking for some cave to dwell in until morning," At Jim's worried face, Leonard added that he hadn't gone anywhere near the outpost. 

"Why would you send him off on his own?" Jim asked. He couldn't keep the sharp accusation out of his tone. The doctor snorted.

"I didn't send him anywhere. He insisted,"

"And you didn't try and convince him about how illogical he was? He could get lost or hurt and it's getting cold,"

"Have you ever tried to change that damn Vulcan's mind once he's made it up?" Leonard said. "Stop being such a mother hen. He'll be fine, like always." Jim knew Spock was smart and strong, but that didn't stop the human worry from entering his mind. 

It was nearly completely dark before Jim heard what sounded like footsteps. Moving very rapidly. He immediately scanned the darkness, but couldn't really see anything. The pounding grew closer. Leonard gripped his med bag tight. 

"Captain, Doctor, a large, canine-like creature intends on digesting me for it's dinner, and I believe it would not hesitate to do the same to you," Spock voice said through the darkness. Even though he had clearly been running, he hardly sounded out of breath. Now that he had stopped and was closer, Jim could see his outline. "I advice that we move at a brisk pace East, away from the creature's den and towards a shelter I believe to be adequate for tonight," Jim and Leonard didn't have to be told twice. The took off running after Spock, occasionally tripping in the deep sand or rocks. A few times Jim almost ran into a tree but managed to dodge it at just the right time. 

"So Spock, how the hell did you get the attraction of a wolf?" Leonard yelled as he chased the Vulcan.

"Doctor, I advice you remain quiet so the creature does not hear you," Spock said more quietly. "It appears to have very keen hearing." The trio ran on until Spock slowed, gesturing to a craggy cluster of rocks. 

"There's a cave here?" Jim asked as he carefully made their way down the hill towards the rocks. 

"It is more similar to an alcove, Captain," Spock explained as he led the way underneath the slightly outcropping rocks. The alcove was pretty small and cramped, but had a good sized roof and it was free of rocks and plants. 

"I didn't realize we'd be sleeping on top of each other," Leonard said bitterly as he eyed the alcove. Jim shrugged. He didn't mind sleeping on top or underneath Spock al that much. 

"Doctor, I do believe there is enough space for you to rest apart from Jim and I," The Vulcan said. Leonard rolled his eyes and sat down near the back of the alcove, curling in on himself. Apparently, the doctor hadn't been exaggerating that much, for Jim and Spock didn't have enough room to lay next to each other without one of them being unsheltered. Jim waited until he heard Leonard's soft snores before rolling on top of Spock. 

"Is this okay?" He muttered quietly, knowing Spock would hear him. 

"Affirmative," Spock agreed. He found Jim's body heat and the heat rolling off of Leonard (whom was so close Spock's arm was pressed against his back) to be quite preferable. The cold nights of Delta 3 didn't agree with his mostly Vulcan physiology. 

Jim nuzzled Spock's cheek and jaw, kissing along his defined jaw line and then over his carotid artery. Spock gripped at Jim's sides and angled his neck away. 

"Jim...Doctor McCoy is laying only 4.32 inches away from us," Spock said. Jim shrugged in the dark.

"We'll be quiet. And I know you're cold..." Jim voice grew husky at the last part as he licked a stripe from the hallow of Spock's neck to his earlobe. He ran his tongue along the shell of his lover's ear before sucking the pointed tip into his mouth. As Jim bathed his ear, Spock snuck his hands underneath Jim's tunic and undershirt, gently running his nails along Jim's heated flesh and pushing his hips up into his. 

Jim moved his hands down to Spock's ass, grabbing at it through his clothing and pulling him closer, his hips resting between Spock's slightly splayed leg. The Vulcan was extremely uncomfortable with the fact that his spread leg was touching Leonard's lower back, but the growing hardness in his pants kept him from stopping Jim. 

"Don't get chased my wolves, okay?" Jim mumbled as he curled his fingers into Spock's pants, tickling from his tailbone to the base of his cock. The Vulcan cooed softly and Jim laughed. "Shush, love. We don't want to wake Bones." 

Spock flushed at the prospect of the good doctor awakening at his moment and bearing witness to his friends' intimate act and immediately clamped down on his lower lip. Jim's finger's worked off the clasp to the Vulcan's pants, pulling them off of one leg. He did the same with Spock's boxers and wasted no time grabbing his lover's stiff member and giving it a few, firm strokes. Spock squirmed, his fingers digging into Jim's back and moving downwards towards the waistband of his pants. As Jim stroked his cock, causing small spurts of precum to cover his hand, Spock slid Jim's pants and boxers down just enough to free his arousal. 

"I love you," Jim said as he leaned forward and kissed Spock on the nose. It wasn't often Jim said those words to him during coital. Afterwards it was nearly all the time, but during held a certain, high affection that Spock rarely experienced. Despite himself, Spock couldn't help the burst of warmth through his chest.

"T'hy'la," Spock whispered as Jim pulled on him again, finger tracing along his double ridges and thumb sweeping slowly over his weeping head. Spock wrapped his legs around Jim's waist, urging him closer. Jim bent his head and allowed Spock to place kisses along his jaw and cheek and the sides of his neck. The blonde released Spock's member, letting it bounce against his hip and reached down between Spock's leg, probing for his entrance. Normally, they'd use lube, but due to Vulcan biology, the male Vulcan self-lubricated, so it wasn't really necessary, just a luxury. 

Jim worked Spock opened slowly, pressing his mouth to Spock's to stifle his moans and his mate's. After wriggling three fingers inside of him, Jim pulled out and bit chastely on Spock's lower lip. The Vulcan's hands grabbed at Kirk's hair as Jim used his hand to guide himself gently into his lover. The head of his cock passed by the loosened rings of muscle easily (thank God for the Vulcan ability to control every muscle) and he eased the rest of his engorged cock in slowly. Spock wiggled underneath him, bucking up to urge him on. 

Once Jim was fully inside, he rocked forward slowly, pulling back and pushing back in with deliberate thrusts. He moaned into Spock's mouth when the Vulcan squirmed slightly in delight. The human angled his thrusts to he brushed almost teasingly against Spock's prostate every time. With one hand he cradled Spock's face, and with his other he grasped his member, give it long strokes down his thick shaft, twirling his nails around the head and then jerking him again. 

It was long until Spock's came, letting out an almost inaudible cry that the unexperienced ear would miss. Jim swallowed Spock's cry, letting out his own, higher pitched one when Spock clenched down on him. Jim snapped his hips forward one last time and sprayed his come into Spock's willing body. The Vulcan breathed out deeply with content, his member softening in Jim's hand. 

Kirk released Spock's cock and inspected his come stained hand. Fortunately, Vulcan come was not only more watery, but transparent, so Jim wiped it off on his uniform pants without leaving behind a white stain. Normally, he'd just lick his hand clean, but on an empty stomach with no water available, Jim didn't think that it would be the best idea. After cleaning off his hand, he helped Spock pulled back on his pants, and shimmied his own back up. 

Eyelids heavy, Jim yawned and curled up on Spock's chest, tucking his head underneath his chin and nuzzling against the muscle that connected his neck and shoulder. Spock's arms wrapped around Jim and he seemed to almost purr in the human's ear. Spock kept his knees bent and his feet flat on the ground so Jim could rest his hips and legs between Spock's. The human had already drawn his legs up to the tops of his thighs were pressed to the bottom of Spock's.

It was the most comfortable both of could possibly be.  
~

"You are both _revolted_ creatures!" Jim jerked awake, once again, to the sound of Leonard McCoy's voice. His blue eyes searched the alcove for the doctor and he spotted him standing by the entrance, shirt ruffled and the sun just rising in the background. Leonard had a disgruntled and disgusted look on his face, his hair crazily shaped in every direction, and red sand caked his clothing. 

"Fucking disgusting!" He yelled again just to make his point. Spock was awake by now and calmly watching the enraged human, his arms still casually draped around Jim. 

"I was right fucking next to you! I was touching you!" Leonard flapped his arms and scrunched up his nose. "You two are like two dogs in heat. Everywhere you go, you fuck."

Jim at least had the decency to blush. "I know, Bones, but we were quiet at least. Unless...you really weren't asleep and enjoyed the whole show." Spock blushed a furious green at this scenario. 

Leonard's face grew red and he sputtered, storming out of the alcove. Jim didn't both stop the laugh that came from his throat. He craned his head up to see Spock's face and grinned widely, scooting up to capture his mouth in a kiss. Spock kissed back for a moment, sitting up as he did so and clutching Jim to his chest. 

"Anytime now!" Leonard called from outside the alcove. Jim chuckled into his lover's mouth and pulled back, standing up and brushing off his clothes. Spock did the same and smoothed his hands over his cap of black hair. Surprisingly, it wasn't even ruffled. The two of them walked out to join Leonard. The doctor was still stewing, his arms crossed childishly over his chest and his shoulders hunched. 

Jim fumbled for his communicator and hailed the Enterprise. At first there was just static, but finally a voice made it's way through. It wasn't Scotty though. 

"Captain! We were getting worried when you hadn't checked in all night," A female voice said. Kirk remembered her as one of the engineer ensigns, Julia Clark. A nice, young girl with short blond hair and freckles. 

"It's alright, Ensign Clark. Can you beam up the landing party now?" Jim asked. There was tense silence at the other end. 

"There appears to be blockage of some sort," Clark said quietly.

"Blockage? Like environment interference, atmospheric interference?" 

"Captain, I believe the stone structure we are currently stationary under is blocking out signal," Spock offered. Jim looked up and nodded, signaling for the other two to follow him out. 

"I'm not-oh, okay, I got your readings now. I can lock on you and beam you up," Clark confirmed.

"Three for beaming. Energize," Kirk said, flipping his communicator closed just as his atoms sizzled. 

Once they had materialized on the ship, Leonard was flying off the platform and slamming his hand down on the wall communicator. "I need radiation resistant suits to the transporter room," He said, turning back to look at Spock and Kirk. "Either of you coming?" Jim shook his head for both of them. "Alright. Ensign Riley, send down Nurse Chapel, Ensign Lovett, and Lieutenant Lauzier. We're beaming down," The doctor cut the communications. 

"You want to go down again, Bones? I'm beginning to think you like the transporter," Jim teased. Leonard only scowled.

"There may he seriously sick people down there, Jim. I still hate the transporter but unless we want to waste two hours with the shuttle there is really no other option. While you and Spock were busy knocking boots, I was dreaming about the best way to help those people," Leonard snapped. Ensign Clark blushed from behind her panel. 

"Doctor, I assure you the Captain and I did not 'knock boots'," Spock clarified just as the officers Leonard called in arrived. Lt. Lauzier didn't bat an eye as he joined Bones on the platform. Nurse Chapel grinned like the cat that ate the canary and stood next to Leonard. Jim didn't miss the soft look they shared. Ensign Lovett, on the other hand, blushed like a school girl as she hurried to her circle.

"Ready to beam down," Ensign Clark said, moving the sliders with much less expertise than Scotty. Jim waved as Leonard's atoms scattered once more and raised an eyebrow at Spock.

"To the Bridge, Commander?" He smiled as he led the way out of the transporter room.

"To the Bridge, Captain."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review if you liked it, or saw an error that I missed (the ending is completely unedited) UvU


	3. Divine Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something interesting going on with Spock. Leonard learns things about Vulcans that he'd rather not know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don't think there is any smut in this chapter, so depending on who you are I can either give you an apology or a you're welcome. Chapter is unbetaed, probably unedited too. Also I want to apologize for the wait; this chapter turned out to be longer than I thought it would, but I hope it's worth the wait ^^  
>  **Warnings for this chapter:** Swearing, Medical Stuff **For The Story** See the previous chapter

Leonard McCoy beamed back to the ship with heavy black bags underneath his eyes. He looked to have aged ten years in the past day, his uniform was dirty, and his boots heavy on his feet. He hadn't managed to save any of them. Not a single man, woman, or child. 

He'd gone back down with Nurse Chapel, Ensign Lovett, and Lt. Lauzier. Ensign Clark had sent down the protective suits after them and they suited up and cut across the planet swiftly to reach the science outpost. Once inside, they almost immediately saw a body of a young man with dark red hair and wearing a lab coat. His skin was folded and in patches from the radiation, and his eyelids were like curtains hanging over his blackened eyes. Already the bodies were starting to rot, and that wasn't a good sign that there was any life left to be saved. The team moved by and behind the desk. That was where they met the red haired man's wife. She was still alive, Leonard could tell by the gently flutter of her lip, baggy eyelids, and the sharp, yet shallow, pulls of air into her lungs. They carried the blond woman out, and Nurse Chapel attempted to stabilize her until the ship got a clear enough beaming signal. Ensign Lovett and McCoy went back in. 

The outpost had countless, lifeless bodies strewn about; over tables, bent over in chairs, sprawled on the floors, propped against the wall. Many were missing skin, some with it just flaked. Some were so badly affected that the only thing left of their skin was the raw, bright pink and red of the dermal layers. The epidermis had been completely burned clean on these bodies. Leonard noted many rotting bodies, blackened with age, and hair falling from their scalps. Some sort of native animal or insect had broken into the outpost, thus causing the broken door, and feasted on some of the bodies. Whatever it was, it was definitely a messy eater, though. It left behind puddles of dried, cherry red blood and ropes of intestines cording through the room. Sometimes heads would be severed, or nearly severed, flopped to one side with the other side exposed to the world. Many bodies bore deep bite marks somewhere on their body

Amongst the carnage though, the landing party did recover several scientist that were still alive. One botanist, Doctor Maxwell Summers his name tag read, was alive for several hours after they recovered him with a surprisingly low amount of radiation in him. The Enterprise hadn't been able to establish a clear signal on their location though, and the doctor passed away. Leonard wrote down in his medical log the time of exposure to the gamma radiation was the biggest factor, and suddenly being moved, prodded, and dumped in the suffocating heat was just too much for his body to bear. 

They had also come across a young child, the daughter of one of the scientists. Her hair had all but fallen out, and her breaths were labored. Fortunately, she was locked in her room so the creature that had broken in couldn't get at her. She hadn't appeared that bad off, besides malnutrition and dehydration, and Leonard was optimistic that he could save her. She was young, no older than ten, but still old enough that her body was strong. The team didn't even move her this time, but she still died not long after they got to her. Leonard was tempted to leave out any information about the kid in his log, but after a few glasses of Romulan Ale decided he wanted to keep his job. 

It was the next day and Leonard was still feeling the effects of the planet. His body ached from the lack of sleep he'd been getting lately, and his heart was heavy with failure. Deep down he knew that the probability of saving those people was a snowball's chance in hell, but he was a doctor, dammit! The ship had moved on an hour or so after the landing party had beamed back up and reported 'no survivors'. Leonard had stumbled back to his quarters and drank himself silly. Just like he did every time he lost a patient. 

The ship had moved on and so Leonard decided he better too. Christine hadn't tried to bother him, and still remained silent when he walked into Sickbay. He really wished she would've said something just to take his mind off of it. But she never did, and that was her decision.

~

"Spock...?" Jim asked quietly as he shook the Vulcan's shoulder. Jim was kneeling on the bed beside his bond mate, brow creased with worry. "Spock?" Spock _always_ woke up before Jim, unless he'd been down in the science labs all night, which Spock hadn't been. It was a Vulcan thing. Yet...Spock was still sound asleep, eyelids fluttering slightly and chest moving with each deep breath he drew in. 

" _Spock_ ," Jim repeated, his voice raising. The Vulcan stirred very slowly, one dark eye lazily blinked open. Spock studied Jim's state of dress, combed hair, and cleanly shaven face before he pulled his other eye open. "Spock, we have shift in fifteen minutes," Jim reminded as Spock regained consciousness. The black haired male couldn't seem to recall ever feeling so groggy before, or clouded. His eyes still felt heavy despite the long respite he had. His legs hardly felt like they could support him. 

"Captain, I do not believe I am capable of attending work today," Spock said, his voice thick with sleep. Jim cocked his head to one side, shock filling his blue iris'. Spock never admitted weakness, nor an inability to do something unless it became painfully obvious that he couldn't. He sure as hell never volunteered to not work for the day.

"What? Are you okay? Do you need to see Bones?" The stream of questions fell from Jim's lips as a million and two possibilities raced through his mind. Spock simply shook his head.

"I am simply feeling unusually tired. There is-" Spock was cut off by Jim flipping open his communicator.

"Bones? Hey, Spock isn't feeling well. You think you could look him over?" Jim asked. There was some static over the line before Leonard sighed. 

"Yeah, sure. Bring him down," The doctor cut the communications and Jim glanced back over to Spock. The Vulcan was propped up on his elbow and his dark eyes were watching Jim coldly.

"Captain, that was not necessary," He said as he untangled his limbs from the blanket. Jim grabbed onto his elbow to support him as he stood on bare feet. 

"Yeah, right," He snorted as Spock stumbled forward slightly, one of his hands shooting out of grab the back of the nearby chair. "Here, put on your boots," Jim said as he reached down and handed Spock his regulation boots. He pulled them on and headed out of the quarters with Jim grasping his elbow the entire way to Sickbay.

~

"Stop being such a mother hen, Jim," Leonard said as Spock got himself situated on one of the biobeds. Kirk was hovering, making sure Spock was comfortable, and chewing his nail when he saw his lover's slightly erratic readings light-up. "He's fine," Leonard said for the tenth time as he looked at the half-Vulcan's readings. They were way off the charts for a human, which was why the machine was blinking and beeping, but he was pretty much in the safe zone for Vulcans.

"You'll call as soon as you know anything, right?" Jim asked, dragging his eyes from Spock's emotionless face to Leonard's scowling one. The doctor flapped his arms at him. 

"Of course. You're already late for shift," Leonard corralled Jim out of the Sickbay, the blond asking questions the entire way. Spock smoothed out the bottom of his shirt and attempted to fix his hair, which he hadn't got a chance to comb before Jim was dragging him to Sickbay. Nurse Chapel was fluttering around, holding clipboards, punching data into PADDS and generally being a busy bee. Every once in a while, she'd toss Spock a smile from across the room. The Vulcan only blinked in response.

"So," Leonard said tiredly as he approached Spock's bio-bed gripping his PADD. "What seems to be the issue, Mr. Spock?" If Spock was not a Vulcan, he would have violently rolled his eyes and sighed, but he was so he did neither of these things.

"The Captain insisted that I see you, although I am not terminally ill," Spock explained. Leonard rolled his eyes.

"That's comforting to hear," He glanced up at Spock from under his brow. "If you're not terminally ill, what are you?"

Spock struggled to explain the nagging weight on his bones and brain. It was like a cloud hanging over him, which was most odd because he did not require a great deal of sleep. "I believe I am suffering some sleep deprivation," Spock told McCoy, noticing the look that instantly passed in the doctor's eyes. 

"You, a Vulcan, sleep deprivation?" Leonard didn't mean to snicker, and if he did he'd deny it. "Okay, Spock, I guess I'll have a look at you, because whatever this is, I don't think it's exhaustion." He sat down his PADD and picked up his medical scanner, running it briefly down the length of Spock's prone body. His brow knitted together slightly as he scanned Spock again, and then one more time. "That's...not right," McCoy said quietly as he walked around the end of Spock's bed.

"M'Benga?" He called into the mostly empty Sickbay. M'Benga, the Vulcan specialistic on board, rounded a corner holding a styrofoam cup of coffee and looking extremely tired.

"It's too early for this, Leonard. Shift just started," M'Benga complained as he dragged his feet across the Sickbay. He glanced over Leonard's shoulder at Spock and seemed to liven up a bit, but not much. Leonard leaned over and pointed to the stats he just scanned into the device from Spock.

"His hormone levels aren't supposed to be that erratic, are they?" McCoy asked. One chart depicting the melatonin levels in Spock's body was all over the place. It was as if the Vulcan's Circadian Rhythm was all off. 

"No, see it was at midnight when his melatonin levels spiked, then went way down at 0200 hours, almost to the point where he'd be awake. Now they're practically spiking again," M'Benga said, using the tip of his pointer finger to trace the zig zagging lines. 

"Well, what does it mean?" 

The Vulcan specialistic shook his head. "I'm not entirely sure," He glanced briefly over at Spock. "I'm going to go talk to him, Vulcan specialistic to Vulcan." M'Benga made his way over to Spock bio-bed. "Spock, can I ask you a few questions?"

The science officer's dark eyes rolled to watch M'Benga.

"Of course, Doctor," He agreed serenely, propping himself up on the biobed. M'Benga sat his styrofoam cup on a nearby shelf and picked up one of the medical PADDs.

"Have you done anything out of the ordinary lately, Mr. Spock?" He asked, pulling up Spock's medical files and records before looking up at the Vulcan from under his brow. Spock contemplated this for a moment before shaking his head.

"I have not, Doctor. May I inquire about the nature of this question?" M'Benga sighed at Spock's request and nodded. Leonard was floating around, absentmindedly checking with machinery and playing with his PADD, trying not to make it obvious that he was listening in and interested in their conversation.

"Well, your melatonin levels are all erratic, they're spiking when they shouldn't be and flatlining when they should be spiking," The specialist shook his head. "I just don't understand what could cause this hormonal imbalance," -he pointed at Spock's readings above the biobed. "Even those readings are slightly off. Have you eaten anything differently, something that could cause hormone fluctuations?"

Spock tilted his head to the side as he pondered this, thinking back on all of the activities and substances he had consumed lately. Finally he came to the conclusion that he had done nothing out of the ordinary that could possibility cause his hormone fluctuations. "I do not believe I have consumed any unusual substances," he informed the doctor. M'Benga looked over his shoulder to share a look with McCoy, whom had stopped flitting around. He turned back to his patient on the biobed.

"Well, I'm going to prescribe you some medication that might help even out your hormones, but if things dont change, or they get worse, you should definitely come right back so we can run some tests; x-rays, blood scans, etc." The Vulcan specialist went to go grab Spock's medication, returning in just a few moments. The half Vulcan thanked him and slid off the biobed. Before he could reach the exit, McCoy spoke.

"You're on mandatory medical leave for the rest of today, Spock. No Bridge duty, no labs. See if you cant get your sorry green ass caught up on some sleep. I'll comm Jim and let him know everything's fine and that you're just taking a day," Leonard said, wiggling his finger at the Vulcan. Spock stared at him for a moment before dipping his head.

"While I find your assessment most illogical, I will concede to your demands, Doctor," He said, holding his small vile of medication in both of his hands as if it was precious cargo. 

~

There was something wrong. Something was wrong, and it definitely did not stop at melatonin. Spock became aware of this after three hours of vigorous meditation, four hours of deep, meditative sleep, and two hours of strenuous exercise that went against Doctor McCoy's orders. Spock's mental controls seemed to be slipping, just slightly and hardly enough to really be noticeable, but enough to make the Vulcan concerned. If meditation was not helping, the cause for his slipping control had to be physical. Yet...the only thing the doctors could find wrong with him were some of his hormone levels. 

Spock sat crosslegged on his meditation map, incense filling the room, and the lights completely turned down. The only brightness came from the gentle flickering of Spock's incense candles, eerily illuminating his face in the dark. He was clad in his loose fitting black mediation robes, cinched slightly around the waist and shoulders but long and flowing everywhere else. Despite all of Spock's attempts to establish a strong mental equilibrium, nothing had changed. Jim's presence in the back of his mind had grown more pressing now that he could not support all of his mental barriers without lowering others. It was a stressful task attempting to keep all of them balanced. It was possible his hormones had something to do with his mental dysfunction, but like the doctors, he could not say why his hormones would be off in the first place. 

The half Vulcan bounced he idea of returning to Sickbay back and forth in his mind for a while before deciding to wait it out. If he did not restore perfect control within the next twenty-four hours, he would see Doctor McCoy and M'Benga again. He stood up from the floor slowly and ordered the computer to put the lights at 75%. It was easy enough to snuff out his candles and roll back up his meditation mat, putting both back into the far corner where they belonged. He shed his meditation robe next, folding it and putting in on a small shelf beside an array of incense candles and Vulcan books. That left him in just his black undershirt and regulation boxers. Yet...he was not cold like he expected to be. They -him and Jim- had come to a compromise to keep both of them satisfied, or at least semi-so, with the temperature of their quarters. They usually kept it in the high nineties, occasionally in the low hundreds, which was still chilly for Spock's Vulcan physiology, but hot for Jim's human one. Spock would tend to bundle up and Jim would walk around completely (or close to completely) naked most of the time. Of course Spock could deal with colder temperatures, since he dealt with the rest of the ship all day, but it was not exactly preferable. And Jim always fussed when Spock looked cold, even though he bitched constantly about how all he ever did was sweat anymore. 

But the temperature of the room now did not bother Spock in the slightest, even though it was holding at 35.5 degrees celsius. Shrugging it off, he climbed in between the sheets of their bed and put the lights down again. He calculated the odds of him still being asleep when Jim returned to be 68.17%. Not that the human would mind, especially if he had saw Leonard today. Quite literally unable to think anymore, Spock allowed his head to thump back on the pillow, and, as the human saying goes, he was out like a light. 

~

Jim hated long days. Those 9 to 5 days that turned into 9 to 12 days in a flash. And nothing was even _happening_ so he wasn't quite sure why he wasn't off that damned Bridge until nearly 2200 hours. He planned on walking straight back to his quarters, after all he wanted to see what had happened with Spock and how he was doing, but the growling of his stomach had him heading to the Mess Hall instead with a very tired looking Sulu and an alarmingly awake Chekov. Jim knew nothing bad had happened to Spock at least, because Bones would've called him right away. Maybe it was just sleep deprivation. Probably. Because when Jim zonked out a night, Spock was usually still awake, and Jim didn't exactly know when he went to sleep. God knows he probably snuck down to the science labs for a good two or three hours or analyzation and research of some rare ore or the other and slept for about two hours, and then woke up to do some more research before shift. It wasn't _healthy_ , Doctor McCoy would complain to Jim on one of their poker nights. That damned Vulcan is going to kill himself because he thinks he's superman. Jim would just chuckle, because Spock was logical and if he was "in danger of expiring", he'd do something about it.

That didn't stop Jim from fussing like a mother hen himself though; always making sure Spock was eating enough, and meditating enough, and wasn't too cold. Spock took it all in stride, even though it was 'illogical', and the human thought that he found some sort of amusement in it. Well, whatever. So long as he let Jim do what he was going to do. 

The meal with Chekov and Sulu was great, other than the fact that Chekov kept making rather inappropriate jokes and hand gestures that he apparently thought Jim didn't get or see. Sulu, of course, was blushing vibrantly, and probably too exhausted to indulge his...well, Jim didn't want to label anything because Pavel still looked like a child to him. And Sulu kind of did too, even though the man was his same age. The Captain had, surprisingly, finished before the other two at 2255 hours, and bid his companions goodbye. On his way out of the mess hall, he ran into a young yeoman -Yeoman Giles, Jim remembered- that was talking his ear off about late reports and papers needing his signature ASAP. Jim didn't like to think that right now was exactly possible, but the yeoman had different ideas. Before he even could protest, she was pushing him down the hall to the nearest rec room with about fifty different PADDS all requiring him to read something, or sign something, or fill some damned forum out. God, being Captain was a pain in the ass sometimes, like when pushy yeomans kept him away from his quarters at fucking 2300 hours. 

Long story short, it took Jim a solid hour to finish all the reports and get back to his quarters at exactly 0000 hours. Technically the next day. He half expected Spock to still be awake, maybe doing a crossword puzzle or something an waiting up for him to shower him with goodnight kisses before they both fell into a deep slumber. But what he found instead was a darkened room smelling so thickly of incense that Jim nearly choked on it and a passed out Vulcan spread out over the entirety of the bed, his limbs only wrapped up in the thin white sheets. Man, he must be _freezing_. 

Jim slipped off his boots and left them by the door, peeling off his shirt on the way over and throwing it on the floor. Next his trousers and undershirt came off, leaving him in just his boxers, because it was like a fucking sauna in here. As per usual of course. He'd have to ask Spock about his doctor's appointment in the morning, because Vulcan's were a bitch to wake up. Like this morning as a matter of fact. He smiled as he stared down at his bondmate, at his peacefully sleeping face and black cap slightly ruffled. There was even a slight green dusting across his cheekbones. To think he'd gotten so lucky. 

He slid into the bed next to Spock and looped an arm around his shoulders, snuggling up close. Even in the sweltering heat of their room, Jim was a cuddler. And Spock was kind of hogging the bed at the moment so if he didn't press right up against him he'd probably wake up on the floor. Because there was no pushing a sleeping Vulcan back onto their side of the bed, even if Leonard would tell him that he'd have to if he wanted to start sleeping peacefully again. 

~

Spock awoke to the sound of something crashing, and then a wild flurry of curses. Normally he'd snap right awake and demand an answer from Jim, but today it was more of a groggy, dazed unfurling of his legs and arms, and then slowly sitting up and blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Jim was sitting up too, his face flushed a dark red and cursing quietly. Across the floor and broken in half was the old fashioned Earth alarm clock Jim had bought a few shore leaves ago. Apparently it was more efficient for waking him up than the computer one. But now it was broken, finally, because just about every morning Jim took to slamming his hand down on the top, or hurling it across the room. Maybe this time he did some combination of both and finally the thing gave under the man's strength. 

"I fucking hate alarm clocks. Why didn't you tell me it was a bad idea to get one of those things," Jim said, turning to look at Spock. His blond hair was sticking up in all directions and his pupils were blown wide. With what Spock couldn't tell. 

"I was unaware at the time of your abhorrence towards alarm clocks," The Vulcan said back and Jim cracked a smile, leaning over to squeeze his thigh. 

"Well, now you know," He swung his legs over the ride of the bed and stood, kneeling down by the broken clock. Fortunately, there hadn't been much splatter. It was mostly just a jumbled pile of loose wires and chipped metal now. "Hey, how'd your doctor's appointment go yesterday? You were asleep when I got back." As if Spock didn't already know this, but he didn't bother to point it out. 

"My melatonin levels appear to be dysfunctional, Jim," Spock explained as he stood and made his side of the bed. Jim looked over at him a bit to see if he'd be kind enough to make Jim's side too, since technically Spock was half on that side of the bed, but he didn't. Damn--he could be seriously passive aggressive at times. Straightening, Jim disposed of the broken clock and the pieces that had come off of it and turned. 

"Oh? Why's that?" 

"Doctor McCoy and Doctor M'Benga are unsure. However, I seem to be functioning at peak proficiency today," Spock reassured. Which was not even a little bit of a lie. Over the night he must had strengthened and reestablished some of his slipping shields, and he was not at all tired. It must have just been a flux after the events on the planet. Perhaps he was overdue for a long period of uninterrupted rest. 

Jim's brow drew together, the way it did when he was either deep in though or concerned. Spock was leaning more towards the latter. "Are you sure? Maybe you should go back down and they can run some more tests." He honestly didn't know if he wanted Spock on the Bridge if he was physically sick or inhibited in anyway. Actually, he wasn't sure if he wanted him anywhere besides Sickbay. It was that stupid overprotective side of him again, but he could hardly help it. Maybe if his mother hadn't been such a screwup raising him he would have a better handle on his obsessive _and_ possessive behaviors. 

"The Doctor did prescribe me a drug, though I have yet to take it. I do not believe I will be needing it for my symptoms have dissipated," That earned Spock a little glare and a stubborn shake of his human bondmate's head. 

"I don't think so. You're lucky I'm not putting you on medical leave."

Spock tilted his head to one side, the way he did when he was preparing to be a pain in the ass. "I do not believe you have the authority to do so. Only the CMO of a vessel may-" Jim raised his hand to stop Spock before he could launch himself into a full discussion of the fine print under subsection no-one-gives-a-fuck.

"That's great, honey. But I was joking," Not really, but Spock didn't need to know that. He turned to claim the bathroom first and get ready for the day.

The two of them were finished getting ready about five minutes before they had to be on the Bridge. They decided to head up early though; there was no point in sticking around their quarters after all, since Spock said he was not going to consent to a 'quickie' before shift. Once they got in the turbolift though, Jim was sneaking a quick kiss onto Spock's mouth, fully aware of the camera watching them. Only the chief security officer and the captain on the vessel had the rights to view any security footage, so Jim figured it was safe. God know she and Spock had done far worse (or better depending on how one looked at it) in the turbolift. Cupcake knew enough about them by now to skip over turbolift videos unless it was completely necessary. And Bridge videos too, but that was really only once. Still make Cupcake want to drink bleach though, or so Jim heard. Who knew what was actually going on the Security Officer's head though. Spock was always a stickler about PDA, didn't like it, didn't understand it, didn't do it, but occasionally Jim could canoodle him into doing something while they were alone, but still technically in public. 

Spock didn't really return the kiss, though he didn't offer an resistance. Jim's pretty sure that if he was human, he would've rolled his eyes. He pulled away after a moment and brushed the length of Spock's arm with his pointer and middle finger in the form of a Vulcan kiss. The corner of Spock's mouth twitched a little, but he otherwise made no movements. Jim smirked and turned back to the front just as the doors to the turbolift slid open. There was only two officers, on the Bridge, both sitting by the helm. They looked tired, both slumped over their station. As soon as their commanding officers came in though, they woke right up and stood, saluting them. Jim fell into his chair and Spock nodded to them in greeting.

"Ensign Cropper and Ensign Raily, you are both dismissed," He said as he made his way over to his science console. Jim was mildly impressed that Spock even knew their names; Jim didn't after all. Which he did feel guilty about, for as the captain, he should know every crewmen's name, face, and rank. But he didn't and that's what he had Spock first. Who probably knew a lot more about Ensign Cropper and Raily than their names, faces, and ranks. 

The ensigns didn't hesitate to go leave, thanking and greeting both Jim and Spock at the same time as the turbolift doors closed, cutting them off. The Captain threw Spock a smile over his shoulder as he sat down. "Do you remember being that young?" He asked, memories of his academy days flooding back. Spock didn't turn to look at him and instead just twitched his eyebrow. 

"I do, Captain," He said. He was at the academy at that time, graduating with high honors. He was even in training to become a professor, the youngest one in Starfleet's history. It really wasn't all that long ago, a few years at the most, even though it felt like forever. He'd been through a lot, he supposed, since then. The destruction of his home planet, the death of his mother, Khan, and of course his relationship with Jim. Which felt just like yesterday even though it had been nearly two years now. To think that their five year mission was nearly half over...Spock thought he finally understood what the human term 'times flies' meant now. 

"I mean, we're still not old," Jim mused, turning back to the view screen. "But...hell, we aren't that young either. Like Chekov. Can you even believe he's on a Starship this young, let along the flag ship of the 'Fleet?" Spock sighed through his nose as he turned away from his readings.

"Ensign Chekov is a highly intelligence, highly accomplished adult. I do not understand the crew's apparent obsession with treating him like a child," Spock explained. Jim just smiled, even though he knew Spock couldn't see him. 

"Everyone knows how brilliant he is, but he's still just a kid. Only nineteen," Jim shook his head in disbelief. "And we knew him when he was seventeen."

"We did, Jim. And nineteen is hardly a 'kid'. Humans cease to be children after the age of eighteen."

"Legally. I bet he's still a virgin."

"I do not wish to discuss with you how sexually promiscuous Ensign Chekov is or is not." Their conversation had to stop there from the turbolift sliding open again and Nyota, Chekov, and Pavel streaming in. They all threw greetings at their commanding officers as they got to work at their stations.

~

Leonard McCoy has just finished filing away reports when he flopped down in his chair and grabbed the nearby bottle of Romulan Ale in his office. It probably went against a thousand different regulations to have this poison in his office, but no one said anything and as long as he kept Spock away, it shouldn't prove to be a problem. Not that he really cared anyway; the Admiralty might give him a good slap on the wrist, but nothing more. They didn't tend to abide exactly by regulations when the Enterprise crew was involved. That was all the better for Jim and Leonard though, god knows some of their methods could be unorthodox. 

It's when he comes to his report, brief as it is, about Spock that he takes a swig of his drink. Vulcans and their confusing as hell anatomy. He had talked to M'Benga only briefly after their short appointment with Spock, and he said he had no idea what it could be. They'd definitely have to schedule a followup appointment, because McCoy bet his life that Spock wouldn't willingly come back. For such a logical being, he sure had a great hatred towards medical assistance. Always had. No regard for his own life, Jim had drunkenly said once, when Spock was nearly killed by hostile natives of some planet. It had been shown during the Khan incident too. Leonard always assumed it was because of his deep rooted daddy issues, or maybe his deep rooted racial issues, but it was probably more than that. Knowing the Vulcan, there would be some intricate story to it all that Leonard's ears would never be privileged enough to hear. 

After Spock and Jim had bonded, Leonard had assumed that Spock would stop taking so many risks; both because he definitely had something to live for now, and for Jim's sake. Of course one could make the argument that when Spock was with Uhura, the same things applied, but Leonard saw right through that. Spock and Nyota had that kind of relationship you just have to have to see if you could ever be more to someone. It wasn't _meant_ to be. Sure, they still love each other, but not like that. Nyota needs passion, a blind could see it. She needs someone who would tear apart the universe for her. She deserves someone who would tear apart the universe for her. Spock could never give her that, because he's a Vulcan and he wouldn't tear apart the universe for her. Spock needed someone to bring him to life, someone who could accept him for who he was, _love_ him for who he was, and push until his walls were all crumbling, and do it mercilessly and relentlessly. That person was Jim, always had been. It was just like how Jim needed a rock, someone to live for, someone to protect and to cherish and for someone other than his old grump of a doctor to protect him. Everyone needed their own person, and Jim and Spock had been lucky enough to find that person, to find that within each other. 

Leonard was still looking. Not exactly actively, and maybe that was because he was so convinced Jocelyn was the one. Hell, he even had a beautiful, wonderful, _incredible_ child with her. Things didn't exactly turn out like Jim and Spock. No--their relationship was too tense, too forced, too fake in the end. Their divorce had been gradual when most divorces were sudden. He wished he could say they split on good terms, but he'd be lying. Jocelyn still couldn't stand the sight of his face, but the feeling was very much mutual. Leonard would've cut Jocelyn completely out of his world a long time ago if it hadn't been for the little angel she gave birth to. Joanna was everything, still was and always would be. Even if he was floating up in space, his heart would always be down on Earth with her. 

Leonard sighed heavily and took another long drink. He missed her, he missed home. But he supposed the Enterprise made a damn good home away from home, even though he bitched constantly about it. And these people were probably the closest thing he had to family. Possibly the closest thing he ever would have to family. _Put it away, McCoy,_ he thought bitterly. He could reminiscence later, maybe when he was closer to his next shore leave so it would be less painful to think about Joanna. He turned his attention back on Spock's report in his hands. He flipped through the virtual pages, zooming up on the melatonin graph. There wasn't exactly anything he could draw from this other than that Spock had fucked up sleeping habits, which the whole crew knew anyway. 

He punched in the code for the Bridge and Jim picked up quickly. Huh--it must be pretty boring up there. "Captain, could you please tell Spock that I want to see him again sometime to day?" He asked. Wow, his professional voice was lacking. He heard Jim's crackle of laughter over the comm. Spock probably made some comment or face at hearing that. 

"Sure, Bones. What's the problem?" Of course the kid would ask if there was anything wrong. Or, no, he actually just assumed something was wrong. Leonard scowled and took another drink before capping the bottle. If he was going to examine Spock, he didn't want to be drunk off his ass. 

"Patient-doctor confidentiality, Jim," He said simply before cutting the communication line. It probably would've been smarter to just say 'nothing', but whatever. Hopefully Jim knew what his "teasing voice" sounded like. He figured Spock would come down fairly soon, better to just get it over with rather than wait and have to do it after shift. Which worked fine with McCoy; today had been too uneventful that it was starting to get a bit eery. Anyone who came in Nurse Chapel saw to right away. She was about as bored as he was that she even fussed over a paper cut some young ensign would come in with. Which brought Leonard to his next point-why were people on this ship coming in with coughs and paper cuts? There were plenty of home remedies that would heal those up, or at least the cough. Seriously, with a paper cut it was easy enough to just wipe the drop of blood off on a napkin, throw it away, and call it good. But...who even used _paper_ anymore to begin with?

Just as he expected, about three minutes later Christine was knocking on his door and telling him that Spock was here and ready for his appointment. Physical? Examination? Well, it didn't really matter what the title was so long as the Vulcan was here. He stood up and thanked her gruffly as he opened the door. Spock was standing by one of the biobed almost like he was ready to jump up on it. Leonard shook his head and gestured for one of the private rooms. "Back here," He said as he got closer to the commander. If Leonard didn't know better, he would've though Spock gave a little noise of surprise. It was probably just the ventilation in here though. 

They walked to nearest private room and Leonard shut the door behind them. "I do not understand, Doctor. I was unaware that I was being given a completely physical," He said turning to look at the human. Leonard crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. 

"I think we should just talk in private, that's all. Don't you remember that you just had your physical a couple weeks ago?" He didn't wait for Spock to respond before he was leaning up against the nearest wall and started asking questions. "What was the last thing you ate? How long did you sleep yesterday? Have you been getting an adequate amount of food and sleep lately?"

Spock lifted his eyebrows at the surge of questions. "The last substance I consumed was a salad, I slept for 10.3 hours yesterday, and affirmative."

"Should've known the last thing you ate was a damn salad," Leonard grumbled before moving on. "What about meditation? Have you been meditating enough lately?"

"I have meditated recently and thoroughly. I do so nearly every day if I get the opportunity."

Leonard winced mentally before asking this next question. "What about your...sex drive and sexual activity? Has that all been normal-and no details, please."

Spock nodded. "Both have been functioning within normal parameters, Doctor." Leonard was thoroughly stumped as to what to ask. Everything seemed more or less in order, and with Spock he didn't have to worry about him lying, so he couldn't pick apart his answers. 

"Well, I guess we'll run some tests; just basic stuff. Blood tests, an x-ray, maybe a MRI. I'll have to see if M'Benga is available. Stay here," Leonard instructed. He was already leaving the room before Spock could respond with something snarky. 

It didn't take long for Leonard to find M'Benga, talking to Nurse Douglas about the biologically significant properties of water. Why? Leonard had no idea; they were doctors, not biologists after all. After McCoy explained to the Vulcan specialist that he wanted to run some tests on Spock, just to put his overactive mind to rest, he agreed. While Leonard went to go prepare the MRI and x-ray, M'Benga went to go take a blood sample from Spock. As Leonard was booting up the x-ray, he was just thinking of what Jim would think about all of this. If he was here, he'd be freaking out that something was wrong with Spock. Surely, if there was something really wrong with him, they'd know about it. 

It was only a minute or so after the x-ray was geared and ready to go when Spock and M'Benga walked into the dark room. Spock had shed his blue tunic and was now just wearing his black undershirt. In his elbow joint a little cotton ball was taped. The Vulcan climbed up onto the small x-ray machine. Leonard lowered the scanner, starting at his feet. It whorled as it took pictures of his body with each movement. It wasn't long before the x-ray was finished and the images were being developed on a nearby computer, which M'Benga was looking intently at. 

Spock laid on the bed, with his hands twined together and resting on his chest. Leonard joined M'Benga to look a the developed pictures. The doctor had to lean in to get a closer look. "Wait--what is that?" He asked, pointing to something on the screen. 

"That, Doctor McCoy, is referred to as the Vulcan auxiliary womb. All Vulcan males have it as a failsafe," M'Benga explained slowly. Leonard had to blink twice, like he wasn't really sure what he was hearing or seeing. 

"Okay...why haven't I seen it on any one of Spock's other x-rays?" M'Benga turned slowly to face him, and he was smiling a little, but his eyes were a mixture of emotion.

"Well, that's because the womb is about the side of a bean. It's not really picked up on x-rays."

"No way _that_ is the size of a bean. Not compared to everything else."

"You are correct, Leonard," M'Benga pointed to the screen and circled the round, fairly large circle in Spock's abdomen. "The Vulcan womb becomes enlarged when the Vulcan becomes pregnant. The day after conception until birth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You like the cliffhanger? That really isn't a cliffhanger, because we all knew this would happen XD Also, if you saw any inconsistencies or errors, please, please let me know so I can go in and edit. Thank you!


	4. Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock has a little breakdown. Options are considered. Jim hears the news. There's also someone attacking the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Highly unedited, just as a warning. I typed this up fairly quickly and just want to get it posted. I should read over it again soon though. I promise.  
>  **Warnings** : Lots of talk about abortion methods and swearing. Nothing other than that though. Possible OOCness (that will be explained later if you consider it OOC)

How, exactly, does one react when they find out that they're best friend is going to be a father? And that they're other best friend is also going to be a father? Leonard really, really wished he had a handbook that told him about all the proper ways to react to things that come after your best friend marries a Vulcan. Unfortunately, there was no such thing in existence, so after this Leonard pretty much decided to make it his life mission to write such a novel. It would fly off the shelves. Maybe. No, probably not since the Vulcan population had dwindled so much. Maybe he'd get sued for slander; by the Vulcan High Council, led by Sarek. Probably. 

Suffice to say, Leonard wasn't entirely sure what the appropriate reaction was. Normally a 'congratulations' would work, but given that he just found out Vulcan males _could_ get pregnant less than a minute ago, and literally five seconds after that he was told this Vulcan male _was_ pregnant, he opted to not say anything. He wasn't disgusted, god knows Spock and Jim would take turns throwing punches at him if they thought that, but yes, shocked. No one had ever bothered to mention to him this little detail about Vulcan anatomy. And the text books he read in his xenobiology courses also neglected to mention it. So how on Earth M'Benga knew and he didn't, he wasn't sure. 

M'Benga kind of seemed uncertain how to react too, but it was more of a 'do I smile or not smile' kind of way. He couldn't read what Spock thought about this, so any reaction could potentially be a bad one. Especially if Spock was less than thrilled about this development. Of course there were _options_ that they could exercise...Leonard was getting ahead of himself. 

M'Benga was the first one to turn around, and he offered Spock a little smile. Not a huge beaming grin, but enough to show he was happy for him. "Congratulations, Mr. Spock. You're pregnant," He said, gripping his medical PADD to his chest. Spock slowly maneuvered himself into a sitting position. 

"I was unaware that my biology could support a pregnancy. You informed me of this yourself, Doctor," Spock said, his tone borderline accusing as he turned his dark eyes on M'Benga. Damn, Leonard was glad he wasn't in his position. 

"Uh, well, from the medical transcripts the Vulcan Medical Facility of Shi'Kar sent over, every test they did on you supported infertility. Are you now happy with this development?" M'Benga, unlike Spock, didn't really sound like anything. A little nervous at first, but was quickly replaced with a monotone voice. Maybe he was against abortion and was trying to hide it. After all, he wouldn't want to influence Spock's decision. Not like Spock was that easy to influence anyway. 

"Vulcans do not get happy, Doctor. What is, is. _Kaiidth_ ," Spock said, sliding off of the bed. "I believe you will find some abnormalities in my blood when the test results are finished processing." M'Benga bobbed his head.

"Yeah, probably," He paused for a moment. "Listen Spock, there are options, if you don't think you and Jim are ready to raise a baby. If you don't want to take that risk with your health. It doesn't have to leave this room, and we won't say anything to anyone. Captain Kirk...the Captain doesn't have to know if you don't want him to. There are pills we can give you, an abortion, or maybe adoption is an option." Leonard was well aware that he was still facing away from the two of them and had his eyes locked down on the screen, but cut him some slack. He didn't want a part in deciding the fate of Spock's baby. That was up to him. Of course he thought Jim should know and have a say in what happens to the little thing, because it was his unborn child too, but if Spock made a decision right now to get rid of it, Leonard wouldn't speak up. 

Spock seemed to mull over this for a long while. "Will the baby be disfigured? Are its chances for survival high?" Oh yes, those typical hybrid baby questions. Leonard's sure Sarek and Amanda asked the same damn things when they were trying to conceive. M'Benga shifted awkwardly on his feet.

"As with every baby, there's a possibility of something going wrong. It's too early to tell though. It's too early to tell if your body will even be able to support the pregnancy. It might...terminate it on its own before we can even do an ultrasound." This wasn't easy, that much was obvious. Talking about losing the life of a barely developed child would never be easy. Especially to one of the parents. Of course, this parents happens to be a Vulcan, and he asked. Talking to Jim about these possibilities would be much harder. Well, assuming Spock was planning on telling Jim. 

"Am I dismissed?" Spock asked, looking between Leonard and M'Benga. Leonard let out a loose snort, but the half Vulcan paid him no mind. M'Benga stepped aside and gestured to the door. 

"Sure, sure. Just--let me know soon if you want to do something about the pregnancy. If you do tell Jim and decide to keep the baby, also let me know," The doctor would offer him an encouraging smile, but he knows Spock wouldn't look anyway. And such a think would hardly encourage him. Spock moves out of the room, his hands laced tightly behind his back. As he steps out into the main Sickbay, a nurse hands him his tunic, which he promptly pulls back on before heading back up to the Bridge.

~

When Spock heard Doctor McCoy ask about his male womb, he knew that he was pregnant. Before M'Benga could even confirm it, he knew. Laying on that bed and listening to them talk in voices too low to be heard by a human was the longest minute of Spock's life. And in that time, a million different ideas and possibilities ran through his head. Being a father was one of the biggest ones. Along with Jim of course. Then darker thoughts flooded his brain; what if Jim didn't want a child? What if he ran out on them? Would he ask Spock to get an abortion? Should he anyway? Spock thought all of these things and more before M'Benga turned to him with his congratulations. It was unwarranted. Spock did not feel lucky. In fact, this tiny thing inside of him, still smaller than a bean, had more or less ruined everything. It would be so easy to just march back down to Sickbay and order it terminated. Much easier than walking back to the Bridge, looking Jim in the eyes, and telling him there was nothing to be concerned about.

This accident could ruin him. It would. At least a month before the birth he wouldn't be able to work; no going down to the labs, no going to the Bridge. He'd be on bed rest, more or less usual to the ship. And easily months before birth he'd be forbidden from going on landing parties, both because of regulations and Jim's orders. And who was to say Jim wanted a baby? He never talked about adopting, or finding a surrogate. Spock had told him of the Vulcan uterus a long time ago, before they even bonded, but that was sterile because of his hybrid blood. And why wouldn't he think that? That's what he's been told all of his life. Jim had given Spock his apologies, but he didn't sound upset himself. What did that _mean?_ Was Jim grateful that Spock could not get pregnant and protection and prevention was not necessary? Did he not care? 

Now Spock was pregnant, and he had no idea if Jim would even want this child--this thing. Would he walk out the door and would they be nothing more than Captain and First Officer once more? Would the human shatter their bond? Spock was probably shaking at his console, but he couldn't help it. He felt like throwing up, he felt like clawing at his stomach until he could reach it and pluck his damned womb out and kill whatever being was growing inside of him. Because it ruined everything. Everything was perfect, they were perfect, and now Jim was going to leave him and he'd be stuck taking care of his offspring. Like some common, knocked up whore. 

The end of shift couldn't come fast enough. Spock was the first one off of the Bridge, and he didn't wait for Jim to join him before he was slamming his hand down on the 'close doors' button. The last thing he saw was the Captain's hurt and confused expression as he rose from his chair. He slumped back against the wall, his hand over his still flat stomach. How long would it remain flat? There was no choice anymore--he had to return to Sickbay and demand the barely there thing be harvested from his stomach. And then for a surgery to remove his womb completely. It was a very possible procedure. M'Benga and Doctor McCoy together were more than qualified enough to do it.

As soon as the turbolift stopped and open, Spock was taking off on a brisk pace to his -no, their- quarters. He didn't bother to avoid any other crewmen he came across, so they had to jump out of the way before he plowed into them. He punched in the code to their room and let the door swish shut behind him. His heart was beating painfully quickly in his side, his head was spinning, and his stomach was fluttering with each inhalation. It only took about three seconds for Spock to make it to the bathroom and throw himself over the toilet as the contents of his stomach came up. It was still much to early for morning sickness, thank god, so he knew it was just the illogical bundle of nerves in his stomach. 

He was being illogical. Kaiidth. What is, is. If Jim left him, there was nothing he could do. The human was an adult, and was entitled to make his own decision. Even if both Vulcan and human marriage both meant 'forever'. Things changed. That was what divorce was for. He would want to part in the life of this child; he was a dignified Starfleet captain, with a bright future ahead of him. Not to be held down by a child and the spouse he knocked up. 

And it was all Spock's fault for not being more diligent, for not considering that getting pregnant was even a possibility. He should have realized sooner, and told Jim, or done something to prevent this from happening. But...but maybe he didn't have to know. Maybe he could end the pregnancy and everything would be the same. Except they would always have to use protection and Jim wonder why and then he'd find out in the end anyway. Unless Spock said he would never bottom again, but Jim would still wonder why. Or...or unless he was willing to get pregnant time and time again and have continuous abortions, which would not doubt he harmful to his body, and Jim would want to know why he goes down to Sickbay after each session of lovemaking. There was no way things could go back to the way they were, no way any path would work out in Spock's favor. Unless there was that odd chance that Jim wanted a child and would be willing to stick around and help raise it and not divorce him. Or that he would tell Spock to get an abortion and then everything would be fine, except they'd have to be careful. 

Spock hoped, quite honestly and without holding back, hoped that one of those options would be the case. Whether it meant keeping the child or terminating it, so long as he could have Jim. 

He was leaning back against the counter in the bathroom when Jim comes into their quarters. He doesn't bother to call out a greeting, because he knows as soon as he sees him, he's going to have to tell him about the child growing inside of him. "Spock?" The human called. The hallow sound of boots being taken off could be heard from the main room. "Spock?" Jim poked his head into the bathroom, opening the door wider with alarm when he realized his bondmate was on a crumpled heap on the floor. He looks pathetic, with paler skin than usual and drooping brown eyes. He didn't even look to Jim as the blonde knelt down beside him and rubbed at his shoulder.

"T'hy'la?" He said quietly, cusping Spock's chin and turning his head so he could look at him. "Please, T'hy'la, tell me what's wrong." Jim, for the life of him, couldn't imagine what had happened. What had reduced Spock to _this_. Spock took a deep breath and forced himself to lock eyes with Jim. It wouldn't change the gravity of the situation if he was looking away like a coward. 

"Jim, I am...with child," He says it as quickly and quietly as he can, but the words still seem to ring in the bathroom. Jim's frozen for a long time before he slowly gets to his feet. He's stumbling out before Spock can even call for him to wait. The Vulcan clammers to his feet, falling against the counter and hoarsely calling after his captain, but nothing he says makes the human stop.

~

Jim was hyperventilating when he arrived at Sickbay. A concerned nurse tried to crowd him and ask what was wrong, but he waved her away, instead making his way to Bones' office. The grumpy doctor opened his door scowling, but when he saw the state Jim was in, his face softened to concern as he ushered him in and sat him down in a chair. "Jesus, man, what's wrong with you?!" He asked, picking up his nearby medical tricorder to wave it over Jim. He just pushes his friend's hands and tricorder away as he pinches the bridge of his nose with the other.

"Spock told me," He said simply, and Leonard is falling into the chair across from him and grabbing the Romulan Ale and two cups, already at the ready. He had prepared for this situation. 

"God, man," Leonard says as he fills Jim's glass with the blue liquid then his own. The Captain's already pounded it down by the time the doctor recaps it. The blonde it holding the glass in his hand and turning it over and over again, just staring at it. 

"I-he told me that he couldn't conceive, that it was impossible," Jim says quietly. "I don't know what to do, Bones. I don't know if I'm ready." Those words hit Leonard like a brick. God, Jim was still a kid, trying his hardest to best this world. In his opinion, Jim still got married too young. He's way too young and irresponsible to raise a family right now. His heart his elsewhere; in space and deep within the Enterprise. With age he'll understand how big of a thing Spock's pregnancy really is, but right now he has no idea. Leonard could still remember the day Jocelyn told him she was pregnant with Joanna. It was like the seasons changed right then and there and the world started spinning the other way. There was no way you could ever be ready for something like this. 

"There are options, Jim. Ways out," Leonard borrowed the phrase from M'Benga, because maybe that's what the captain needed to hear. Maybe he needed to know that he didn't have to be a father if he wasn't completely committed and if he wasn't completely ready. It wasn't like Leonard wanted Spock to get an abortion, but sometimes adults needed to make decisions like this out of the interest for the greater good and the grand scheme of things. 

Jim sadly shakes his head and looks up, setting the glass on Bones' desk. "He told me and I just left. I left him there on the floor and he doesn't even know," The kid sounded heartbroken, his blue eyes starting to well with tears. "I don't want to get rid of this baby, options be damned. It's a part of me, and a part of Spock, why wouldn't I want it?" Okay, Leonard was seriously confused now. Did his friend just come down to his Sickbay, invade his space, and say that he _wanted_ to have the baby? 

"Then why the hell are you here?" Leonard asked, bewildered and downing his glass. Jim shrugs violently. 

"Does Spock want this baby? Is it even possible to have it? Will Spock die? Will the baby die? What could go wrong? How will our parents handle this? How will the crew handle this? How will Starfleet handle this?" Jim lets the stream of questions fall from his mouth. "That's why I'm here, because I'm fucking terrified and going out of my mind."

Leonard was still looking at him like he was insane, but whatever. As a friend he should support his friend in whatever he wanted. "I don't know what to tell you kid," He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I think you still have a lot to learn. Hell, you and Spock just got bonded not that long ago. I'm a doctor and believe all life is valuable, obviously, but abortion isn't exactly a rare or frowned upon thing anymore. Just like homosexuality. People have come around to accept it."

"I should go and talk to Spock. He must think I'm...disgusted or mad or something," Jim breathed out deeply trying to calm himself. "I-I have to be there for him." Leonard gave him a sad smile. 

"Sure, Jim. Do what you have to do."

~

Spock was laying on the bed on his back when Jim walked in. He didn't glance over at his bondmate, but felt his heart beat a little faster. "Hey," Jim greeted as he walked over to the bed. He was still only wearing his socks, he realized, which he'd run down to Sickbay in. Spock didn't look over at him, and his face didn't change at all. His hands were folded over his stomach and his brown eyes locked on the ceiling. Jim kneeled on the edge of the bed and crawled closer so her could put a comforting hand on Spock's arm. Had he been human, he would've flinched. 

"I'm not mad, Spock. I'm not mad or disgusted at all," Jim reassured as best as he could. God, there was lump starting to grow in his throat. Spock's eyes rolled over to look at him.

"Logically, I have come to the conclusion that you are, in fact, both angered and revolted by the turn of events." Spock argued, his voice so cold and devoid of life. It was something Jim really hadn't heard in a while. The human reached out to gently caress Spock's elbow. 

"I'm _not_ ," He argued back. "I could never be disgusted with any part of you, or anything we made together." He drifted his hands lower to cup them over Spock's. "I'm not saying it's going to be easy, or that I'm not scared as hell, but--but maybe this is what we've been waiting for." 

"This will damage our careers, Jim. People will see it as a perversion of nature," Okay, this was a good step. Spock was starting to warm up a bit, his voice not quite as detached, his eyes warmed as they came to rest fully on Jim's face. The captain shook his head and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the tip of Spock's nose. 

"Getting bonded damaged our careers, our reputations. You know that Starfleet wasn't on board, because they frown upon the top two commanding officers being in a relationship. But we did it anyway, and all of our crew stuck by us, and we still have the Enterprise. New directives have even made it a rule for vessels to be more accepting of families," Jim laid down next to his bondmate, still holding his hands over Spock's on the Vulcan's stomach. "We've gotten through worse, and we're still alive. This...this is a miracle, Spock. You said so yourself; you can't get pregnant. Yet, you are, and it's both you and me growing inside of you." The human sighed against his Vulcan's neck and Spock allowed himself to push minutely closer. 

"I believe you wish to keep the child?" Spock asked, glancing down at their twined hands over his abdomen. Jim nodded vigorously. 

"Yeah, yeah I really think I do," He stroked his thumb over Spock's knuckle. "Not everyone will feel the same, like you said. The Admiralty, for one." Spock let out a Vulcan sigh, which was just a slightly more audible exhale.

"It does not matter Jim. We have endured far worse." And weren't those the truest words ever spoken.

~

"Jim."

"Jim."

" _Jim_."

The human in question stopped his rushing around suddenly to face his husband, his cheeks flushed a delicious shade of rosy pink. His blue eyes looked particularly bright this morning. "What?" He asked, slightly breathlessly. His gold command shirt was bunched and wrinkled, his hair crazily swooped to one side with a quick combing, and here he was, standing right by the food replicator and rapidly pushing in numbers for Spock's breakfast. 

"I am hardly pregnant. I do not require any more food than I did before conception, nor am I an invalid incapable of getting my own meals," The Vulcan said patiently as he bent to finish making the bed. At least he stopped his whole I'm-only-going-to-make-my-side act when he realized Jim was never going to be the type of husband to make his side of the bed. Said husband seemed to struggle with this idea for a bit.

"But you are pregnant and you're eating for two. You need to cut out the late nights and early mornings too. No more landing parties or...or stressful situations at all. We don't know how it'll impact our baby," Jim said as he picked up the synthesized garden salad, easily twice the size of Spock's normal dish. He carried it over to him and basically forced the plate into his hand. Spock arched his eyebrow at the overabundance of lettuce stick out at him. 

Spock knew he would have to endure Jim's hovering, but it wouldn't be easy. He didn't want Jim to think that he was more or less useless now that he was pregnant. There would be enough time to think that when Spock had trouble getting out his bed his stomach was so inflated. He picked up the plastic fork and stabbed at some of the lettuce, bringing it up to his mouth to chew thoughtfully. Jim seemed satisfied with a job well done. 

"As soon as you finish that, we can head up to the-" That was when the ship rocked, throwing the salad clean out of Spock's hands and causing both of them to stumble to the one side. The red alert signals were already flashing, blaring in their cabin and down the halls. Panicked footsteps could be heard outside. Jim grabbed Spock's wrist and dragged him out of their quarters and into the hall. The entire ship was slanted sideways, so it was difficult to walk, and officer of all ranks were rushing back and forth. Jim reached out to snag one with his free hand. 

The ensign couldn't have been older than twenty two, and he had wide green eyes and soft brown hair. He stopped when the captain grabbed him, though he looked like he'd really rather be on his way. "Ensign," Jim commanded. "What's _happening_?" The ensign -Ensign Carlton, Spock remembered- shook his head. 

"An unknown hostile vessel is firing at us, Sir!" Just as he said this, the ship lurched again and the sound of phaser fire could be heard. Carlton turned to take off down the hall and Jim spun back around to Spock. 

"Bridge, now," It didn't have to be repeated for the two of them to run down the corridor, weaving between officers and sliding into the nearest turbolift. They couldn't just have one motherfucking day, could they? Jim slammed his first down on the Bridge button and the turbolift lurched up as it carried them swiftly to the appropriate location. It was just their luck that something like this had to happen, and on a day that was supposed to be all sunshine and flowers and baby names. No, instead they're going to have to deal with hostile aliens demanding to know why they even have a Starship and for them to beat their asses back into their own damn solar system because apparently, star mapping is a crime.

But, what was that saying Spock always used? Jim couldn't remember, so he just settled for 'shit happens' as the turbolift doors slid open. The two commanding officers spilt out onto the Bridge; Spock practically running to his science console and Jim quickly sitting down in his chair. 

"Sulu, tell all decks to report how much damage they have. Chekov, shields. Uhura, try to establish communications with the attacking vessel. Spock, readouts," Jim ordered quickly. Spock, as usual, was the first to respond. 

"Their weapons consist of photon torpedoes, easily double the power and efficiency of our own torpedoes, Captain. Their vessel has a warp capability of nine, faster than the Enterprise, but we have them outranked in size and durability," Spock said as he sat and turned in his chair. Jim nodded.

"Our shields are at 79%, Keptin," Chekov reported out, looking at the screen reading out the findings. The attacking vessel was facing them down, very visible in the Bridge view screen. The ship was definitely smaller than the Enterprise, and painted a dark, dusty red. Its wings were long and wide, folded at the ends, and the body of the vessel was smaller and like a capsule. Two large shooters had emerged from the bottom of the ship like old Earth fighter jets. It was both intimidating and pathetic looking at the same time. 

"Engineering is reporting minor damage, but that's it, Captain," Sulu said, inclining his head backwards just a little to see Jim nod. Nyota was shaking her head behind him.

"There's too much phaser interference, Captain," She sounded frustrated. Jim glanced at her out of his peripheral vision.

"Phaser interference? They don't have phasers and we haven't been firing back. How is that possible?" Jim turned to Spock for the answers on this one. Nyota didn't have the experience or equipment to answer his question. Spock did though, and he was prompt in delivering. 

"There photons have similar properties to our phasers. Including the ability to block transmissions with enough fire," Spock said, glancing back at the view screen and the strange vessel. Jim nodded thoughtfully, and then the ship took another hard him. The captain had to grip the arms of his chair to keep from tumbling out of it. The others managed to stay seated well enough despite their flimsy little seats. 

"Jesus," Jim swore. "Sulu, prepare weapons. We have to fire back if we can't establish communications," Sulu didn't hesitate to follow out his commanding officer's orders, pushing buttons until everything was in order. He glanced back up to the view screen. 

"Weapons ready for firing, Sir," Hikaru had his finger posed over the button that wound send out their stream of blue phaser fire, hopefully enough to disable or at least inhibit the enemy ship from attacking. It didn't seem aware that the Enterprise was preparing their weapons. 

"Fire, Sulu," Jim ordered and the pilot did so, letting the phasers out with a loud hiss. The weapons struck the vessel in the side, sending it hurtling backwards a bit. 

"It's a hit, Captain," Hikaru said triumphantly. The entire Bridge watched in silence for long moments until Uhura made an audible sound in the back of her throat. 

"Captain, they want to establish a visual link," Wonderful. So they'd agree to meet on their terms and their terms alone, apparently. And it was admittedly smart. Hopefully they spoke standard though, because Jim would rather not use the universal translator or have to listen to Uhura repeat everything back to him. It wasn't like she wasn't a genius or anything, but frankly, the captain felt bad for her. She always sounded so exasperated when she had to do it, unless she was in a showing off mood. Which was actually more often than what should be comfortable. 

"Patch them through, Lieutenant," He sighed as he straightened in his chair. It was time to get diplomatic about everything. See, he wasn't big on diplomacy. He was a much better shooter, just going in, doing the hard, physical work, and getting out. No messing in that political crap Starfleet was obsessed with. Okay, well, it wasn't crap because that was the whole purpose the Federation, to bring together the universe, but maybe...just, sometimes he thought he'd be more fit on a battle ship rather than a research and exploration vessel. But, of course, his preferences changed day to day, and with this baby coming...well, with this baby coming he wouldn't want to be on a battle ship.

He snapped out of his thoughts when the image of a gray skinned alien flickered onto the screen. Definitely humanoid. It had a huge head, with wrinkled, light charcoal skin and bloodless lips, stretched long and thin over its face. Its eyes were completely circular and sat high on its forehead, both of them an inky gray with no pupil or whites of the eye. Its nose was crooked and arched broadly, the tip curling down towards his upper lip. Not exactly an attractive person, Jim must say. However, he smiles anyway, even though he's pissed off that his ship got damaged by his bastard.

"This is Captain James Kirk of the U.S.S Enterprise," He greeted, cooly and professionally. Enough so that the alien wouldn't assume anything. Well...even if there was nothing he was trying to hide anyway. 

"My name is Qótur, captain of this vessel," His standard was understandable, though slurred and heavy, like he had been drinking alcohol. His big inky eyes blinked, and it looked like a trickle of water trailed down the side of his face. Was he _crying_? No, it was probably just that those eyes had to water often to keep them clean. Or some crazy alien shit like that. 

"Well, Captain Qótur, why were you firing at my vessel with no provocation?" Jim picked up a bit more hostile tone, even though he could practically feel Spock glaring into his back. 

"You have come into our territory without permission, Kirk," The alien said simply. Well shit. What was he supposed to say to that? Certainly they did have a right to defend their part of space, but surely Starfleet knew about their species. Or...at least in some way or else how would they speak standard?

"I...was not informed that this part of this quadrant was occupied by a non-Federation species," Kirk said. "We'll withdrawn our vessel immediately." Qótur nodded. 

"It would be most appreciated, Captain," He cut the communication then and Jim was openly frowning, resting back in his chair. They weren't a hostile species, clearly, they just didn't want to be interrupted by the Federation. That was understandable enough. But...but Starfleet still gave them orders to go out here. The biggest question of the hour was why?

"Bring us about face, Mr. Sulu. Mr. Spock, with me," Jim stood and walked to the turbolift with Spock coming to quickly match his stride. "Hey Spock," He said as they both ducked inside the lift. Those dark eyes turned on him. "Starfleet sent us to this quadrant to star map, knowing full well that there were non-Federation species there. Now, why do you suppose they'd do that?" 

"I do not know, Captain. Perhaps the order was jumbled when Lieutenant Uhura received it," Spock offered. Jim didn't think that was very likely; after all if the message was corrupted in any way, Uhura would have said so. She was thorough and didn't pass things off as half assed. Not even on a bad day. Of course he could just be reading between the lines and that damned fine print. Maybe it was a mistake, maybe somebody just screwed up back at HQ. It wasn't exactly a rarity for such a thing to happen. In a day so many different messages were sent out to so many different ships that things became disorderly fast. God, Jim hoped he never had to work in that part of Starfleet. He belonged on the front lines.

But, of course, that brought him to his next point. The baby. Once it was born, he couldn't be galaxy saving Jim Kirk anymore. He needed to start to settle down, even more so than he did with Spock. Could they even raise a baby on the Enterprise? So many things could go wrong in any given day. Hell, Jim wasn't sure he even wanted Spock on the ship when he gave birth. It was too risky. Not that the Vulcan would ever, ever consent to a nine month long shore leave. No, he'd call Jim's bullshit order. But Murphy's Law; what could go wrong, would go wrong.


	5. Splitting Hairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim has a talk with the Admirals. Together, Spock and Jim decide to break the baby news to Winona Kirk. Leonard reads up on some Vulcan anatomy, with the help of M'Benga.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Oh my god, I feel so awful that this chapter took forever to get up, and it's not that great. For those of you who don't know, I'm a sophomore in college this year and I've been a lot busier than I was last year, and I've had some drama within my family that's been very stressful for me to handle. However, I think (and hope and pray) that this will be the only posting gap that is this long, and I hope you continue to stick with it.  
>  **Warnings:** Swearing, Some minor family drama (that will be explored more next chapter), some sexual themes/allusions. No actual sex though, maybe next chapter ^_-  
>  **A/N Continued:** I also have an ask.fm now, because like...everyone does now a days, or at least everyone I know. I'd absolutely love it if some of you guys popped in and asked me some questions (any questions!). Here's the link: [ Ask Here ](http://ask.fm/XxXSnarkyXxX)

Jim Kirk never thought when he took up captaincy that he’d be in this position. Admittedly he never thought he’d be married to a half Vulcan with a little bundle of joy on the way, but that isn’t what he was talking out. He was talking about the fact that he was now in the midst of an intense stare-down with Admiral Komack, Admiral Archer, and the new admiral, Admiral Hummus. The three of them were crowded around the small view screen in some stuffy Starfleet Academy conference room with sticks firmly shoved up all of their asses. Even Admiral Hummas’ and Jim thought she looked nice when he first saw her.

“Captain Kirk, your orders were to map out the quadrant, yet you didn’t,” Admiral Archer said, hands folded on the table in front of him and just viewable through the screen. Jim couldn’t really believe that they were still trying to feed him this bullshit and play the innocent card. It was pathetic really.

“Okay, yes, yes you did, but you failed to mention in the orders Lieutenant Uhura received that this quadrant was part of a hostile alien’s territory,” he bit out, teeth grinding together with the effort of not biting off these bastards’ heads. The admirals all exchanged looks at this, like he couldn’t see them, before turning back like he was a petulant child.

“We may have neglected to mention as much,” Archer said with a little sigh. “But we wanted to reevaluate their standing with the Federation. We know now, based on your report that they have no interest in joining us.” Oh, that just served to piss Jim off more. How dare they use the Enterprise as a negotiation vessel? They could’ve been attacked. 

“That’s not our mission. The Enterprise is an exploration vessel more than a diplomacy vessel, though Starfleet has no qualms with treating us like one,” just because they were the flagship. It was complete and utter bullshit. 

“I understand that, Kirk. We will…not continue to send you on reckless missions like that in the future,” Admiral Archer was cutting the communication before Jim could even open his mouth, because apparently anything he had to say was useless and would have to wait. He huffed angrily as the black screen and shook his head. They could try to convince him all they wanted that they’re actually attempt to not send them on missions like this anymore, but they were just talking out of their asses like they always did. He’s heard that same promise from a thousand different people over the years, and nothing ever changed. It wasn’t even so much that he was upset with the missions, they could be exciting as hell and helped to boost up experience, but now…well now his fucking husband was pregnant and no one exactly knew how the pregnancy would affect him, so Jim would rather not have to worry about being blown up over Starfleet’s carelessness. 

He was tempted to yell at the admirals all about regulations, and the rules regarding pregnant crewmen, but he knew that Spock would skin him alive if they told anyone before their parents. Honestly, he wasn’t looking forward to comming his mother, Winona, because she hadn’t been exactly supportive of his and Spock’s relationship to begin with. She wasn’t necessarily homophobic, or at least she never seemed to be until now, nor did she tend to make biases based off of species, but she was pissed when she found out. It didn’t change Jim’s mind though, clearly. He could give less of a fuck about what his mother thought. 

Sarek, as per usual, had been very emotionless about the whole thing. He wasn’t supportive, god no, but he wasn’t outrightly rejecting their bonding like Vulcan parents sometimes did. Maybe he finally understood Spock and his human need to bond with someone he felt affection for, just like how Sarek bonded with Amanda. Ever since the Vulcan accident, and Amanda’s untimely death, Sarek and Spock had gotten closer and could actually talk and agree rather than argue all the time, but their relationship was still tense. Even Jim, who was no expert in how families normally function, could see that. 

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, still giving that screen a death glare. It would take a bit for him to get over this, but he would eventually, just like he got over all the other times that Starfleet recklessly endangered their vessel like it was a military ship. Which it wasn’t. Sure, it had some advanced weaponry, and some of the best security, but it wasn’t built for attacking. It was built mostly for speed, conducting research, and new planet exploration. While they weren’t directly a diplomatic vessel, as he said just a moment ago, they did conduct many diplomatic missions, which Spock seemed to like fine but Jim found boring and tedious. That’s probably why he complained about them as much as he did.

 

Jim was bitching about the admiralty in his head and calling each and every one of them some choice names when he heard the quiet swish of the door opening. He glanced up to see Spock striding into the room, all of his attention focused on the PADD held in his hand. As usual, he looked impeccable, his hair straight all around like a glossy black cap, his shirt unruffled, and his dark eyes attentive. He didn’t acknowledge Jim was he walked by to lower himself on the edge of the bed and tapped away on the screen to his PADD. Wow, didn’t he feel loved?

“Hey, baby,” the blonde greeted, pushing back his chair to stand up and move over to Spock’s side. The Vulcan glanced up momentarily before focusing back on his PADD. The screen was just covered in numbers and charts and formulas Jim didn’t understand. Only because he didn’t care to understand them, not because he couldn’t if he wanted to. That was why it was so great being a genius; you could almost pick and chose what you knew and what you didn’t. 

“Greetings, Jim,” Spock said after a moment, monotonously yet distractedly. Damn, those science labs must be outputting some really interesting data. Well, the area of a triangle was interesting to Spock, so Jim wasn’t that surprised. 

“What are you working on?” Jim asked as he dropped onto the bed beside Spock. It was only the day after the run-in with the hostile alien, and nothing much had changed in regards to Spock’s pregnancy. Or Spock’s work. Jim had managed to get in a conversation with Leonard about cutting Spock’s workload, but even the doctor said that they could wait for a while before making any drastic changes to Spock’s schedule. Which was good, Jim supposed, because Spock would go cray just sitting around and not doing anything day in and day out. He already wanted to take on more hours in the science lab, but Jim managed to convince him otherwise with some very…foolproof methods. The only thing that had really changed for Spock thus far was his dietary needs and his more common appointments with Bones. Bones told Jim and Spock that he’d have to preform weekly physicals, at least, on the Vulcan and that he’d have to start eating for two, even if the thing inside of him was barely more than a zygote. Spock was thing to begin with, after all, and Bones would like to see him put on some weight before the fetus started leeching some resources big time. 

“I am observing the diffusion reaction between the Delvian root cells and a sodium chloride solution,” Spock explained, enlarging a pictograph with a single tap of his finger. Or…at least Jim thought it was a pictograph. Honestly, that ‘diffusion reaction’ observation seemed boring as hell to him, but like he said, Spock got off on the area of triangles. 

“That’s…interesting, Spock,” he said, scooting closer so he could lightly kiss behind his pointed ear. Spock didn’t seem to pay him any mind, like he wasn’t even there and just went about his work. Well, this wasn’t any fun. Sighing, Jim fell back on his heels and studied his Vulcan partner for a moment, all black bangs and focused eyes and—child. 

It still hadn’t sunk in, it never really does, that he’s going to be a father to a three quarters human, one quarter Vulcan child, and he’s going to raise it and watch it grow and it’s going to be made of both him and Spock. _Both of them_. It’s going to be a fucking miracle is what it is. Of course he’s nervous because he didn’t have the best childhood growing up, hell he never even knew his father, but some of that nervousness is beginning to be replaced with excitement. He thinks. Maybe he’s just hungry. 

“Spock-“ Jim begins again, shifting just slightly. 

“Yes, Jim?” Still no eye contact. They’re all focused on that little glowing screen.

“I was thinking about it and well…we’re going to have to tell our parents,” yeah, telling Winona and Sarek should be a fucking joy. They’re like the stepparents from Hell, honestly. Not to mention that the two of them didn’t get along, like at all. Sarek’s calm and collected nature, tinted with a layer of thick disapproval grated on Winona’s nerves, and her carelessness, unhealthy drinking habits, and reckless emotional outbursts only made Sarek’s permanent wave of disapproval grow whenever he was around her. Though they did have one things in common; they were both widowed. And it was _sad_ that that was the only thing they had in common, but it was true. Maybe that’s why they tolerated each other as much as they did, because God knows they weren’t doing it for the sake of their kids. 

Spock looks up from his PADD now, eyes turning to rest on his. “I am well aware of that fact. It would only be logical for our parents to be informed of my condition before the birth of their grandchild,” ever the logical one, of course, but Jim has known Spock long enough to sense that underlaying tenseness. He didn’t want to tell Sarek, probably out of fear his father would disapprove of it, just like he always did. Not that Spock would ever admit to being afraid of something, especially about being afraid to talk to his father about his unexpected pregnancy. With Jim Kirk’s child. 

“Tomorrow then? We could just comm them after shift,” Jim, and he’s sure Spock agrees, would rather not do it at all, but they have to. It’s just one of those things you’ve got to do. Giving a nearly inaudible sigh, Spock finally sat the PADD aside on the bed and turned his eyes to Jim once more.

“That would be most…acceptable, T’hy’la,” The Vulcan agreed. It was true, Spock was not particularly…eager about telling his father about the unexpected development, but it did not matter. The baby was a fact, and he and Jim were going to raise it, regardless of what input their parents had on the matter.

-

“Sure you want to do this?” M’Benga asked as he took a seat in Leonard’s office, dropping one of his thickest and most thorough textbooks on the table. It was the old fashioned kind, the ones you barely saw anymore, but it was so much easier than any digital version. Leonard eyed the thing on his desk warily, because it was heavy and made of probably a thousand poor trees, and the binding was stretched and old, the cover dirty from various spills, probably from coffee mostly. God knows how many long hours M’Benga labored over this textbook in the late hours of the night or the early hours of the morn just to walk away with a good test grade at the end of the day. 

“Why wouldn’t I want to do this?” Leonard retorted. It wasn’t like he was driving a car off of a cliff or anything, and honestly he’s seen enough of Spock to more or less figure most of his complex Vulcan anatomy out, but not everything. God no. This textbook of M’Benga’s was the most in-depth material ever written and printed about Vulcan anatomy and biology, from the very basic unit of their beings -cells- to the most complex structure in their body -the Vulcan brain-. It covered everything from diseases to sex to the nervous system and beyond. Or so M’Benga told him. 

Naturally, Leonard was a bit intimidated, because he never fancied becoming an actual Vulcan specialist, that was why M’Benga was here after all. But what with one of his friends (and Leonard could begrudgingly admit that Spock was one of his friends) was pregnant, and said friend happened to be a Vulcan, Leonard thought it might be wise to crack down and learn some more about Vulcans, specifically Vulcan pregnancies and male Vulcan pregnancies, which was outlined in great detail in this textbook supposedly. Leonard wasn’t sure if he was actually looking forward to reading about that or not, but we’ll see. 

M’Benga had agreed readily to act as his sort of mentor, to teach him everything he knew about Vulcans, because he agreed that as Spock’s primary physician, he should have more of a solid and structured background in Vulcan anatomy. So far what little Leonard had gathered about Vulcan anatomy had more or less been limited to first hand experience, or AKA trying to fucking stitch up Spock’s wounds before he bled to death or his body went into shock. Needless to say that wasn’t necessarily the best and most efficient, let alone the safest, way to become more comfortable with Vulcan anatomy. 

M’Benga cocked his eyebrow and shrugged, turning the cover over to expose the first page of the book. It was like a fucking exploration into the Vulcan soul or something. Leonard just watched as M’Benga went over some basic things, like about cells or some shit the CMO didn’t much care for. He could give less of a fuck if Vulcan cells had a double plasma membrane, or if their cytoplasm was thicker and more chalky than a humans because of their natural desert climate. He didn’t care that they had two nucleoli or that they had virtually no vacuoles. He really didn’t, but he let the other doctor ramble on for a moment.

“And one of the most important things to keep in mind about Vulcan cells is that, while they’re very similar to ours, they don’t have mitochondria. See, our mitochondria used to be a bacterium that an early eukaryote attempted to digest and couldn’t. I won’t get into the whole background, but long story short, our mitochondria are essentially little bacterium living in our cells. That’s okay though since they aren’t parasitic, in fact—“ Leonard held up a hand to stop M’Benga before he could get even more wrapped up in what he was saying.

“I learned all about the evolution of eukaryotic cells and organelles back at the Academy, hell all the way back in high school. Just tell me about the Vulcan ‘mitochondria’ so we can move onto what’s actually important,” he sighed, already fighting to not reach for that bottle of Romulan Ale.

“Right-sorry. Anyway, Vulcans have another organelle that makes ATP in their cells known as the _misophica_ in standard. I won’t bore you with the Vulcan name,” M’Benga said, just about as concisely as he could. Why, exactly, he decided to go off on that little tangent, McCoy would never know. He was just relieved when the man flied through the thick pages of the textbook and stopped at Chapter 17: The Reproductive System. Great. Definitely not something to read in bed, because no doubt Leonard would get disturbed by the end of it. “Here’s the chapter. It’s pretty extensive and broken into two subunits; male and female pregnancies. Obviously you’re more concerned with male Vulcan pregnancies, but I’d recommend just reading the entire chapter to get a good basis in the general reproductive system and why a male’s is different from a female’s. Obviously you can ask me any questions when you’re done, though I remember that this book described everything pretty well.” 

Leonard nodded and thanked M’Benga as he stood up and took his leave, leaving him alone in the small office reading up on the reproductive system of Vulcans. Needless to say Leonard never really thought he’d be in this scenario, and if he ever was definitely not for the reasons he had. Taking a deep sigh and making sure he had his Romulan Ale at ready, he flipped back the first page. Alright—the first subunit was predictably the female reproductive system. No awkward diagrams or anything, though some of the topics at the top of long and extensive paragraphs left much to be desired. 

He more or less skimmed through the first couple of pages, that went way more into detail about the structure of the Vulcan female than he ever needed to know. But god-if the female’s subunit was this bad, he just couldn’t imagine about the males. Not really reading the text after a certain point and more or less just flipping mindlessly through the book and trying not to look at those way too close up and personal pictures, he went nearly twenty pages -twenty fucking pages- before reaching the second subunit; the reproductive system of Vulcan males. With a heaved sigh, Leonard buckled down to do some serious, probably scarring reading, not to mention the fucking visuals he knew he’d get along the way. Jim and Spock totally owed him for doing this reading, and it was all for them. Little fuckers, having to go and get themselves a baby. That was just such a Jim thing to do. 

-

The next day at shift went by pretty quickly, with nothing much to do until their new orders came through. After talking to the admiralty the day prior, Jim had no doubts that they were putting the Enterprise on standby until they could pick up their wounded fucking ego. 

Jim, for one, was both happy and unhappy to leave the Bridge when time finally came, because now he knew he had to go and talk to both his mother and Sarek about…about the fact that they were going to be grandparents because he accidentally knocked Spock up and they wanted to keep the child. And yeah-they totally weren’t ready, but if there’s one thing that Jim Kirk has learned in life is that you are never ready for the best of things. Like becoming captain of Starfleet’s fucking flagship, and just everything about Spock in general. 

Spock, as per usual, showed no outwardly signs of being distressed over the fact that they had to tell their parents the good news. Or maybe the neutral news depending on how you looked at it. But knowing Sarek and Winona, they’d both interpret it as bad news and for different reasons. God knows Winona would go off on some rant about George which would result in her crying and more or less trying to drink herself to death, and Sarek would probably go on a rant in a cool, monotonous voice about how illogical the very existence of the child was and in the end Spock would end up feeling like a fucking freak of nature _despite_ the fact that it was Sarek and Amanda together that decided to conceive him. And with the help of a genetics lab, Jim’s been told, so it’s not like it was a mistake or anything.

“You ready, Spock?” Jim asked as they stepped into their quarters and out of the rather crowded hallway. Spock spared him a sideways glance as he bent down to unzip his boots and to place them orderly by the door. 

“There is nothing to prepare for, Jim, unless you are referring to the conference we are about to conduct with your mother and my father. In that case, I am…” Jim knew Spock would find some sort of logical work to describe what he was regarding all of this in a few seconds, so before he could the human just leaned over to kiss him firmly, reassuringly. 

“Yeah-I know. Me too,” he sighed and shuffled over to the comm unit, sitting eerily dark and quietly on their little table. “Hey, maybe if we’re lucky neither of them will pick up.” Jim highly doubted his own words, because Winona was almost always home now a days, and Sarek had like a portable comm unit that his home comm sent to him when he was away on business. Or at work. Or doing whatever the Vulcan Ambassador did in his free time, so probably wedging metal rods more firmly up his ass.

“It would be illogical to postpone our conversation with our parents. The news about my pregnancy will become public, inevitably, and subsequently our parents will be informed and no doubt interviewed on how they are taking it,” Spock said, even though Jim knew he was just trying to bullshit what he really thought with logic. The blonde sighed though and just reached out to squeeze Spock’s forearm with a little smile.

“Well, if you’re dad’s a dick to you again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself around him,” he said as he pulled out one chair for Spock before sinking into his own chair, his back automatically slouching. He was just not looking forward to this in any way, shape, or form. But Spock, as per usual, was right. They needed to just bite the bullet and get it over with. 

Spock moved around Jim’s chair to lower himself much more slowly into his seat, his back so fucking straight his spine caved inward. That couldn’t be fucking healthy, that spine curve, but hey. It was pretty fucking sexy, and Jim would suggest that they do other activities until he caught sight of Spock’s slightly pinched face. Right—that mental bond of theirs. He forgot. 

“Jim, now is not the time to engage in-“ Spock began before the human just laughed and waved him off, already getting the comm unit ready to contact Winona. Might as well get his hurdle out of the way first. 

“Yeah, Spock, I know,” that’s the only thing he managed to work out in response before the screen in front of him opened up to a cozy little living room (and by cozy he meant cluttered as all hell with numerous fucking stacks of books and god knows what else) and a harried woman, in her early fifties. Winona Kirk looked distracted, like she had better things to do, before they rested on her son and his bondmate. Ah, now her attention was all on them. 

“Jim,” she said, none too warmly though not coldly either. The relationship between mother and son, much like Spock’s and Sarek’s relationship actually, had been estranged for as long as Jim could remember, and as far as he was concerned it had very little to do with him and everything to do with George Kirk. Jim looked just like his father, that’s what everyone always told him, so maybe that’s why Winona always looked pained when she saw his face. Like right now. 

“Hey Mom, you busy right now?” oh god, please say yes, please say yes. Of course she shook her head ‘no’, some loose blonde and gray strands falling from her bun to frame her face, which was surprisingly smooth despite her age. Well, she wasn’t that old when you really thought about it. 

“Can I help you with something?” There was that trademark impatience so many associated with Winona. Wasn’t she just a gem? Jim cleared his throat and fought the urge to grab onto Spock’s hand, his fingers already twitching towards him. See, while Winona wouldn’t even know whether or not they were holding hands, because they’d obviously do it Mission Impossible style under the desk, Spock found that handholding was extremely distracting, especially during important meetings and whatnot. Emotional transference and all, or something like that. Old Spock had described it to Jim briefly back on Delta Vega, but didn’t get much into details. They didn’t exactly have time for details, after all. 

“Um-“ Jim looked over at Spock, whom just continued to stare emotionlessly at Winona. It was just like another order of business, like they weren’t delivering baby news. Well, technically it wasn’t even baby news yet, since the thing inside of Spock was so fucking small, “Yeah. Spock and I have some good news.” She should know right off the bat what he means, but given that the two of them are male, it’s not a surprise that she just stares at them blankly before confusion flickered across her eyes.

“Good news? What news?” As per usual she’s butt in before she even let Jim explain something. As irritating as that was though, at the very least it gave him time to think about how to word this; ‘Oh, hey, Mom, I just knocked up my male, half-Vulcan lover with my child, though it’s not really a child since it was convinced less than a week ago. Oh—and we want to keep it, Grandma.’ Why did Jim have a feeling this wouldn’t go over well with Winona?

“Well, Mom,” he turned slightly to Spock and smiled. So long as his stoic Vulcan was here, he could move fucking mountains, and that meant he wasn’t giving his mother the satisfaction of knowing he was dreading telling her this, “Spock and I are going to be fathers.” Like a bombshell, or ripping off a bandaid. 

Winona’s expression was pretty priceless though; she acted at first like she hadn’t heard anything, just continuously looking at them, but now she wasn’t blinking. For a solid three seconds she just seemed to adjust to those words, to understand them, before the color was sucked clean out of her face and her dark blue flecked eyes widened. 

“You’re what?” Wow, that was quite possibility the quietest tone of voice she had ever fucking used. Apparently pregnancy news needed to be told more to her in order to get her to shut up and stop yelling. 

“We’re gonna be parents. There’s—“ Just the look Winona gave him was enough to make his jaw click shut mid-sentence. Those blue eyes, like his, like George’s and Sam’s were dark, more of a navy blue now. She didn’t look revolted or disgusted she just looked like she couldn’t handle this. 

“I can’t right now, Jim. I don’t—“ Of course she didn’t understand, no one would unless they understood all about Vulcan anatomy. And she knew it wasn’t like they were adopting or anything, and it must be just the way he worded it. He opened his mouth, to beg her to let him explain and to not jump to conclusions about it being a perversion of nature or the usage of an artificial womb, but the communication was abruptly cut, the screen fading over in darkness in replace of the shocked look on his mother’s face. 

No one would really understand why Jim’s eyes filled to the brim with tears right then as his heart fractured into little pieces. Not even Spock would ever get the full reason out of him, but the second that screen went to darkness he was standing up and storming off to the bathroom, before Spock could see the tears threatening him. Maybe it was wrong to leave Spock like that, to leave him feeling like he was some sort of freak after the expression on Winona’s face, but a part of Jim knew that Spock…understood in some way. Maybe not in the way that Jim might need, but somehow, underneath that cold Vulcan exterior, he knew it was best to leave Jim alone. 

Jim just sat on the bathroom floor and tried to compose himself, tried to stop those damned tears that came out of nowhere. He could’ve seen this coming from a mile away, it was pathetic, shameful. But there had always been something about Winona Kirk that was hard as steel and unbendable as forged iron. She was a force, just like her son, but in a way that was very different. If Jim was fire and heart she was the cold hiss of metal being yanked from a scabbard. And just like a sword, she could cut and ruin and destroy him, her son, her child, the only one that stuck by her after George and Sam. 

And the tears, Jim supposed, were there because he didn’t understand why Winona couldn’t be there for him if he spent his whole life being there for her. First it was Starfleet in general, secondly it was Spock, and now—now his unborn fucking child, her grandchild, and that look on her face seemed to betray everything she felt at not only the situation but at Jim. Disgust, shock, confusion, disbelief, anger, refusal. 

So maybe the tears were there because of Winona’s seemingly rejection of him as her son. Or maybe, in some distance part of his mind, he finally realized that the frayed rope between mother and son had finally broken, and he cried for what was, and what never would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See any errors? Please, please let me know, I don't have a beta reader or anything like that and my editing skills need some serious work. Also please leave a comment/kudos if you liked, or noticed something I can work on ^^
> 
> Don't forget to check out my [ Ask!](http://ask.fm/XxXSnarkyXxX)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it, and let me know if I should continue, what you wanna see happen, complaints, advice, whatever in the comments. Or if you just feel like talking, because I love to talk, as you can probably tell. No flames though. Constructive comments definitely are encouraged, thanks! UwU
> 
> My [ Ask.Fm ](http://ask.fm/XxXSnarkyXxX) is open to everyone too! Please stop by and leave a question/something to talk about. Even if it's just to bug me about updates ^^


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